


"When the Lamb Goes Silent, but Within One's Own Mind Can Still Hear the Screams of Them"

by UnknownMusing



Series: "Could he feel a Daily Stab of Hunger for You and Nourish at the Sight of You" [1]
Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: F/F, Fake Character Death, Hurt/Comfort, Kisses, Letters, M/M, Margo is still the mother has Mason didn't take her Ovaries like he does in the TV series, More secrets about Dr. Ocrates revealed, Morgan is Hannibal and Will's son in some weird DNA way, Nigel is Hannibal's Half-brother, One chapter re-edited because it was spur of the moment one and written late at night, Pining Hannibal, Reference to flowers, emotional angst, lovemaking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-21
Updated: 2019-07-21
Packaged: 2019-09-05 01:05:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 34
Words: 50,540
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16800625
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/UnknownMusing/pseuds/UnknownMusing
Summary: After the fall, events happen leading to Hannibal becoming separated from the man he loves with all his heart - Will Graham - and so he begins a journey like Dante did for the woman he fall for, Hannibal travels through the metaphorical inferno until he reaches his Beloved.





	1. When the Lamb Goes Silent, but Within One's Own Mind Can Still Hear the Screams of Them" Moodboard

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Hannibalsimago](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hannibalsimago/gifts), [purplesocrates](https://archiveofourown.org/users/purplesocrates/gifts), [Krey9Jorce](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=Krey9Jorce), [Damonfreak89](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Damonfreak89/gifts), [KatherineKrawl](https://archiveofourown.org/users/KatherineKrawl/gifts), [TreacleA](https://archiveofourown.org/users/TreacleA/gifts), [HigherMagic](https://archiveofourown.org/users/HigherMagic/gifts), [JGogoboots](https://archiveofourown.org/users/JGogoboots/gifts), [GhostGurlGamer](https://archiveofourown.org/users/GhostGurlGamer/gifts), [slashyrogue](https://archiveofourown.org/users/slashyrogue/gifts), [ThatRedBean](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThatRedBean/gifts), [Willsblackstag](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Willsblackstag/gifts), [erodingthebluff](https://archiveofourown.org/users/erodingthebluff/gifts), [TheSeaVoices](https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheSeaVoices/gifts), [DaringD](https://archiveofourown.org/users/DaringD/gifts), [ElectraRhodes](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ElectraRhodes/gifts).

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Moodboard is by lgbt-and-fandom-moodboards on Tumblr


	2. Prologue: The Fall, Separation and a Re-Birth

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I would like to thank Arkarti on Tumblr for giving me permission to use some of the animated GIFs for my Lamb fic.

__

_"_ _See this is all I ever wanted for you. For the both of us."_

Sea-bluish green eyes, gaze upwards into maroon eyes with both their breathing coming in laboured gasps as both men stand next to the edge of the eroding bluff. Blood coats their clothes and faces, while laying spread-eagled on the courtyard patio lays the body of **_"The Great Red Dragon"_** dead to the world.

His abdomen slashed open - that had allowed for torrent of fresh blood to spill - and the ragged tear on his throat, ripped by teeth - sharp and deadly ** _. Predator's teeth._**

_"It's beautiful."_

A whisper, almost to Hannibal's mind like an admission of **_Love_** makes his heart skip a double beat, feeling Will gently lay the side of his bloodied cheek on his chest with hand coming up to hold his arm tightly.

There both dying, wounded so greatly that the chance of surviving is not possible and in slow motion, their bodies twist in the air as they gently fall over the edge of the eroding bluff into the air.

Heading straight downwards to the rolling crashing waves of the Atlantic Ocean.

The wind rushes by them, whipping their hair about and clothes, while Hannibal Lecter braces for the impact that is soon to come.

* * *

Both their bodies smack the choppy white waters with such force, it causes them to become separated immediately by the intense pounding wave action as Hannibal, in final, weak desperation - like that of a starving man - tries to grab Will's arm.

 ** _Mother Nature_** though, intervenes like she was trying to keep him away from the young man by hurtling him backwards towards some rocks where his back soon slams straight into them sending the most intense, violent pain shooting through every part of his body at the same-time he feels part of his spine snapping in a certain place.

He doesn't know where. The blackness is coming in fast, covering his vision and before he is dragged away from deadly rocks by the pounding waves is that Will Graham - the man who he loved and had loved - is gone due to cruel turn of **_Fate_** taking the young man away from him.

The last thought going through his head, before he sinks into unconscious state is...

_"So, ends the **Wrath of the Lamb,** who is no longer among us."_

* * *

_"JACK, OVER HERE!!!?"_

A voice.

Shouting, reaches Hannibal's ears muffled though like he is still underwater as he weakly digs one hand into soft still wet beach sand followed by the other digging into it as well then begins to haul himself slowly to the dry part of the sandy beach, every part of his body and muscles screaming in protest because of what he is making his damaged and shattered body to do.

A soft thump. He collapses onto the dry sand starting to cough violently up sea-water and blood, sending spasms of more pain through his already weakened, battered and broken body as crimson petals land onto the golden sand covering it in them.

It glints in the early morning light of the **_Dawn_** sun rising over the horizon, followed by a shadow blocking out the light as he sees it is Jack Crawford, who kneels down next to him so they’re both eye-level then a hand reaches out, touching the top of his head to reassure him everything was going to be alright for now.

A sigh comes from the large black man, followed by asking him a question that makes Hannibal stare at him with widened maroon eyes then before he can stop himself tears form heavily in his eyes, brimming over the edges starting to run heavily down his cheeks.

" _Where's Will?"_

* * *


	3. "Walking the Path Alone, Because You’re Not Here, My Beloved."

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What happens after the Fall of the Eroding Bluff and where Hannibal is now.

** Hannibal's P.O.V: **

_"Now, try again. You can do this. Just one foot in front of the other."_

Will Graham - the man I loved and had loved - is gone, lost to the rolling Atlantic ocean that had separated us both from each-other and now, only part of my **_Memory Palace_** wandering the halls of it with my little sister Mischa.

Will, had died and I was alive because of Jack Crawford's intervention to keep me alive then gripping the walking bars with both hands, begin to walk down the aisle that been formed by them.

Outside the leaves on the Japanese Maple, small topiary hedges and Silver birch are turning various shades of soft golden yellow, rich dark purple and warm-hued orange implying Winter would be soon arriving, while because it was coming up to December people would be getting ready buying presents for relatives, grandkids or even their own children.

I reach the middle, stopping with my chest rising and falling under the grey long sleeved grey shirt as I breathe heavily feeling sweat that has formed trickle down my spine in small bead - like a rain droplet going down a window - then try to place one foot in front of the other when my legs choose to give out underneath me.

The walking bars rattle, making a soft tinging noise in the process and slight pain radiates up my spine forcing me to grit my teeth with one hand digging into the carpet fibers in front of me. In my mind **_Imaginary Will_** speaks.

**Get up, Hannibal. Come on, place your hands back on the bars. That's it, walk slowly forwards one step at a time.**

With his enthusiasm in trying to help me, I manage to get back up gripping both bars tightly with my hands then begin to work to the end, where the Orderly for the Criminally Insane, who helps with one injured and needing to walk again, waits for me.

By the time, I reach the end of it, I'm soaking with sweat - which is still running down my body and seeping through the prison clothes I wear - and knowing I must test myself, let go of the bars.

I step away from them, walking forwards a few steps and consider it for now an achievement of recovering. If Will, were here he would probably smile softly at me, like had used to and the realization hits me - I missed Will.

Everything about him - his smile, the way he laughed and the other little nuances about him.

And his sea-bluish green eyes, which were one thing I would never be able to forget about him.

"You've done well today. Though you do need to do more." The Orderly, says making me lift my head up to look at them and nod silently in reply, not wasting my breath speaking any words to them.

Then they continue. "You know your rather quiet, Hannibal Lecter. I expected more...you know to be like the rest of the wacko's in this stinking place."

As people knew, especially Jack Crawford, I did not tolerate the **_Rude_** and glare at the young naive Orderly calmly saying, my next words.

"Would you prefer if I rip your tongue out and swallow it whole?"

They neither flinch nor even blanch at the words I have just said. Instead, stand there smiling in certain way and steps close to me, causing me to take a step backwards - away from them.

I wasn't fully healed of course. If they attacked me, I would not be able to fight back.

"You could try, Dr. Lecter. But you’re at a disadvantage with your broken, shattered body that is starting to heal." They say, almost backing me up against the walking rails as they do so. "I could...if I was let say provoked by you, break every damm bone in your body until you’re either confined to wheelchair or hospital bed."

Both of us stare at each-other, maroon looking into dark hazel with gold flecks around the edges soon shuddering slightly at the fact at this very moment in his eye's I'm the vulnerable **_Prey_** and he to mine the **_Predator._**

"Take me back to my cell. Were done for the today."

"Of course. Whatever the good Dr. Lecter wants, his wishes will be granted."

I step away from him, moving out the way. Just not to be near this Orderly, who could easily hurt me in any way he liked.

"Sarcasm makes you rude, Crom."

The Orderly, seems surprised I know his name only to soon compose himself with a face of stone and heads to the door himself.

"Well, you would know something about that wouldn't you." Crom whispers, bending his lips down to my ear.

This makes me flinch away from his hot, sickly breath on my cheek and keep my face turned to one side, staring out of the large windows at the first snowflake starting to spiral downwards.

* * *

**Where does the difference between the Past and Future come from?**

**Mine. Before you and after you.**

A **_Memory._**

Uzzi Gallery.

The Painting by Botticelli.

Meeting Will again, after the certain events - the killing of Detective Pazzi, like how the man's ancestor was and for Will, being flung off the train by Chiyoh because she had worried he was going to kill me.

Sitting on the bench, quelling the urge to reach over and place my hand over his to comfort him. I had instead kepted it holding the drawing pad, listening to him talk to me then we both got up at the sametime and headed out into the courtyard.

What happened next, could not be stopped and remember watching in slow motion as Will, was flung backwards due to the impact of the bullet from Chiyoh's sniper rifle from the corner of my eye.

"Hannibal?"

A voice says, interrupting the **_Memory,_** which fades away to reveal the ceiling of the large prison cell. Turning my face on the pillow, I see it is Alana who had called my name.

Standing there behind the glass, wearing a striped white and black suit with soft cream trousers making me sigh softly, swinging my legs off the bed and placing my feet into the slip on Velcro shoes then get up, slowly.

"Alana, what do I owe the pleasure of your visit?" I ask her, heading over to the large table limping slightly and pulling the stool out from underneath it sit down with a slight wince, which she notices.

"Were just going to have a normal conservation, Hannibal." She replies, pulling the chair from the writing desk and placing it down then she sits, crossing one delicate leg over the other.

"Normal conservation, Alana. What would amount to that? Me, telling...you the painful truth of that night. That fateful night."

"Yes, that is more accurately the answer what I want the answer to what happened that night, Hannibal? Why won't you talk about? What is it that has placed you into silence when you’re asked about this?"

**Tell her a Lie, Hannibal. Spin a web of gold so thick, so she cannot not see through it.**

**_Imaginary Will,_** whispers in my ear, his breath hot against my cheek as he stands behind me.

"I rather not discuss it, if you don't mind." I say, noticing how she simmers with slight anger underneath the surface and calmly leans forward saying her next words carefully.

"Are you sure? F.B.I forensics, found evidence...of sexual activity in the bedroom of your safe house. Did you, Hannibal, decide to have sex with Will before the **_Dragon_** came?"

My heart skips a beat at these words, while the ** _Memory_** comes to the forefront of my mind.

_Hannibal, coming out of the shower to get rid of the dust; grime and sweat with large towel wrapped around his waist sees Will is sitting on the edge of the bed, staring into distant space then concern rising for the young man, he goes over to get his medical kit from the bureau._

_Looking back at the young man, he sighs softly saying the words quietly knowing Will might not hear him say them._

_" **Myilamis,** come back to me. Don't go into yourself....without me." _

"What would like to know, Alana?" I ask her, causing her to rise up out the chair and step closer to the glass, glaring at me through it.

"Dammit, Hannibal is this just a game to you? You have another Court Case, coming to discuss your **_Fate,_** so answer the...goddamm question." She hisses, while I begin to wonder how large can I weave this web of mine to keep her blind once more - the **_Arachnid_** , who had managed to bite back - until she sees through it.

* * *


	4. Meeting with an Old Serpent and the First Letter

** Hannibal's P.O.V: **

Stepping into the large room, for my walking exercises I expect to see the Orderly Chrom standing at his usual spot waiting for me. However, instead when I lift my head I see someone else entirely standing at the large windows with his hands in his suit trousers pockets then speaks to me, after the door has been closed behind me.

"Hello, Dr. Hannibal Lecter. My name is Dr. Astreolies Ocrates, I'm been appointed as your new Orderly, ever since Mr. Chrom has sadly to say dearly departed his job to elope with woman."

I cannot speak.

What this older man, has just said makes my heart feel lighter.

"Would you like a drink?" He asks me, indicating to come fully into the room as I hear the door shut behind me, leaving me alone with the older man then I step forwards, just as it happens.

Suddenly, high-pitched screaming - like an animal being slaughtered - pierces the air around me, I look around trying to find the source of it and can feel myself starting to panic heavily - having not done ever since Mischa had been killed by those starving men right in front of my very eye's - trembling heavily.

**_Hannibal!!!? Hannibal!!!?_ **

**_Imaginary Will,_** shouts my name reaching out to cup both my cheeks - in reality though I can feel it's Dr. Ocrates, doing this to me to ground me, while my breath comes in laboured gasps then he speaks calmly to me.

"Can you hear me, Hannibal Lecter? I'm going to say a word. Do you understand?"

Weakly, all I can do is nod silently to the older man and hear him give a small satisfied " _Hmm"_ then calmly speaks the word.

**_"Lamb."_ **

* * *

In my **_Mind Palace,_** every one of the mirrors in the many rooms and hallways explode outwards sending glass fragments in all directions as the screaming of my **_Prey_** and some of Will's becomes louder filling my ears with such noise and clarity.

It's deafening to hear as I'm transported to one place, I don't want to see again.

The Night of the **_Great Red Dragon._**

* * *

_"See. Watch what transpired."_

_I'm being forced to watch the scene of the Memory of the **"Night of the Great Red Dragon"** feeling myself being held back by strong arms as the **Old Serpent** hisses in my ear, wrapping its scaly body around my own - constricting me slowly. _

_"I'm going to film your death, Dr. Lecter as you become one with_ **the Dragon."**

_I hear myself gulping heavily, chest rising and falling with each laboured breath I take. My own life-force, spilling through the gaps in my fingers, while laying propped up against the piano leg._

_Will, standing with the wine glass still in his hand and remember flicking my gaze to him, which the Dragon had noticed at the time._

_How I had been distracted at the time._

_What had happened next, I can never forget with harsh clarity._

_Will, being stabbed in the cheek as harshly as the **Dragon,** had lifted him clean off the carpet with the force of his strength then flung him out onto the patio, leaving me propped up against the piano trying to figure out what to do. _

_Then finally making a decision, that would cost me further injury maybe even **Death** straight away. _

_I shudder in the grip of the **Old Serpent,** who I can feel with each passing moment of the **Memory** tightening more around my body._

_"No, more.....No, more....Please."_

_I whimper to the **Old Serpent** , feeling it increase its constriction until my back arches with my head tilting backwards to stare up at the Heavens of the **Memory Palace** \- where the stars spread outwards like a path, but are starting to fade away - then a cracking noise echoes around me, when my rib-cage finally breaks apart. _

_The action returning me to the real world._

* * *

Coming out of the Memory of that Night is like I'm raising out of water or being pulled out of it by someone, slowly fluttering my eyes open to reveal the sight of Dr. Ocrates, holding my wrist to check my pulse then feel I'm sitting in one of the armchair, near the fireplace in the room.

"What happened?" I ask, voice suddenly hoarse and weak-sounding like I had just done a lot of screaming at some point.

He doesn’t answer me, just stands up and heads over to the drinks cabinet leaving me sitting there in the armchair chest rising and falling slowly as I even out my breathing until my heart resumes its normal pace then settling back into the armchair, lay my head to one side staring at the fireplace.

It had been lit at some point, during when I had lost time. The flames of it, gently flickering and wavering reminding me of the Fire-dancers of Greece - spinning the batons of flames to create shapes with them - and outside, see the sky has turned the various shades of orange; yellow and purple with blackness bleeding into those colours.

"Here" Dr. Ocrates says, handing me a glass of brandy to drink, which I take from him noticing how his gaze has landed on the ring on my ring finger - a golden wedding band. The same golden wedding band that Will had worn around his own ring finger.

* * *

_"Hannibal? Come here."_

_"What is it, Will?"_

_The golden wedding band is slipped off his own ring finger, while my hand is taken hold of by my wrist and he calmly, slips it onto my ring finger then his hand moves, coming up to cradle the back of my head._

_I'm pulled down for a breathless kiss, with him pulling me onto the bed and up onto his lap where his hand cradling the back of my head starts to sift through my shower-damp hair._

_Our mouths begin to move against each-others, him soon laying down with me straddling him, legs either side of his waist then lifts my hips up, slipping the towel wrapped around my waist off still kissing me breathlessly._

_Our tongues entwine inside and outside our mouth's, with saliva either being exchanged or trickling down the sides of them then he let's go of mine, seeing my flushed face and pupils expanded with lips swollen from the kissing._

_He bends his head down, causing me to tilt my head backwards bringing one hand up to cradle the back of his head feeling him with his free hand, fingers coated in lube spearing me open - prepping me - at the same-time his moist, warm tongue swirls around one of my nipple's then his teeth bite down, hard enough to draw blood._

_I cry out his name, breaking the silence of the bedroom when he does it at the same-time clenching my thighs involuntary around his fingers when he presses against the wee nub within me that sends white sparks flashing across my eyes._

_Like comet trails._

_I'm flipped by him. Soon feeling him get over and hitching my thighs around his waist then presses inwards, filling me._

_Spreading me open - like when one of those flowers spreads it petals at night to attract the moths and insects of the Night._

_My back arches of the bed cover, which I grip tightly for support and shuddering fully, look up at the mirror in the ceiling seeing my expression of ecstasy and pleasure then he begins to move, undulating his hips back and forth._

_Spearing me, with each thrust he gives within my body at a hard, fast pace because both know we don't have enough time. The **Dragon** was coming, because he felt **Betrayed** by me. _

_It is brutal, chaotic and unexplainably something that should have happened before the events I do not want to remember shattered the teacup - that already has been shattered so many times already._

_So, I just succumb. Succumb to what Will, is now making me feel as everything dissolves into a haze of pleasure, ecstasy and finally.... **Love.**_

* * *

"Where do you come from, Dr. Ocrates?" I ask the older man, sipping the glass of brandy listening to the crackle of the fire in the fireplace, with the faint strains of " ** _If Love Now Reigned"_** composed by **_Henry the Eighth in 1510_** coming from the radio.

"Hmm, curious are we? I was born on the island of Thasos to a slightly wealthy family, sort of like your family though no siblings to play or interact with." He replies, taking a sip of his own brandy and lowering it, swirls the amber liquid around the glass.

The liquid gleaming faintly in the firelight. On the coffee table, between the two armchairs is letter addressed to me and placing my own glass down, pick it up seeing it has been forwarded by the F.B.I Head of the B.S.U - Jack Crawford - to me.

"Would you like some privacy?" He asks me, seeing how I'm trembling because it is Will's handwriting and gulping down saliva, lift my head to look up at him seeing he has gotten up out of the chair.

"If you don't mind."

He says nothing else, just walks past me lightly squeezing my shoulder to reassure me everything will be alright and he will be around if I need him then go back to look at the letter then opening it, begin to read.

_Dear Hannibal....._

_Do you remember the first sonnet Dante wrote in **La Vita Nuova,** where he describes his strange dream of Beatrice Portinari.? Do you know how it goes?_

****

**_"Allegro mi sembrava Amor tenendo_ **

**_Mea core in mano , e ne le braccia avea._ **

**_Madonna involta in un drappo dormendo._ **

**_Poi la svegliava, e d'esto core ardendo_ **

**_Lei paventosa umilmente pascea_ **

**_Appreso gir lo ne vedea piangendo."_ **

_"The first three hours of the night were almost spent_

_The time that every stars shines down on us_

_When **Love** appeared to me so suddenly_

_That I still shudder in at the memory._

_Joyous Love seemed to me, while he held_

_My heart within his hands, and in his arms_

_My lady lay asleep wrapped in a veil_

_He woke her then and trembling and obedient_

_She ate that burning heart out his hand;_

_Weeping I saw him then depart from me."_

_By the time you read this letter, I'll be gone and nothing but the Shade in your Memory Palace who will haunt you._

_Yours and forever will be,_

_Will Graham_

****

His voice echoes with clarity, words flowing into my ears and tears form in my eyes, brimming over the edges to fall over them with the letter soon slipping out of my hands to fall onto the floor as I get up out the chair, heading over to the sliding door slip it open to step out into the garden.

It is cool, not cold outside and wrapping my arms around myself allow for the tears to fall and plip onto the paved courtyard for the garden.

**Now do you see?**

**_Imaginary Will,_** whispers in my ear wrapping his arms around my waist and holding me close to his warm, body. Even though he was no longer among the living, it felt like he was here and actually holding me.

"Yes"

**Now do you feel?**

Lifting my head, I see coming out of the darkened tree line two creatures stepping onto the pure, white snow which had fallen - the **_Ravenstag,_** his **_Creature_** and mine, the **_Wendigo_**.

* * *


	5. Memories Floating Like Dust in One's Mind as One's Mind Palace Begins to Slowly Disintegrate within their Own Mind and Midnight Interrogation by the Old Serpent

** Hannibal's P.O.V: **

"Thank you, Denise."

The large, female orderly doesn’t say anything after I thanked for delivering what is evidently when the Court announcement will be and leaves, shutting the large double doors behind her leaving me alone then walking over to the post-box, open it taking out the bulky envelope of the Court Summons and close it.

I head over to the large table in the center of the room, moving my sketches of different places and people then sitting down, open it take the sheets out reading through them noticing again it seems Freddie Lounds is among the Witnesses. Probably with some cockamamie evidence made up to make sure I stayed in this prison permanently.

For the Defense, it is Dr. Ocrates who has placed his name down to defend me.

What did want to achieve from all of this?

Just who was he really?

**We can't trust him. He's planning something.**

**_Imaginary Will,_** whispers while I lower the Court Summons placing them flat on the table and flick my gaze straight up to little red dot in the far corner of the large prison - the one that watches every move I make in this confined space - then picking up the sheets, tear it half and once, again keeping my eyes on it.

**You've really done it now. Alana, is going too pissed off with you, Hannibal.**

I give small _"Hmm"_ in reply, hearing doors slamming wide open followed by high heels clacking on the polished floor then finally coming into the visiting area.

"Hello, Alana." I say, still keeping gaze on the little red dot in the corner of the room and not her face, knowing it be filled with anger and shock.

"Hannibal, what game are you playing?" She asks me, in a certain tone - which implies _"Look at me."_ \- And tearing my gaze away from then get up off the stool, going around the large table.

I pad forwards, slowly with each step echoing off the polished floor until I'm right in front of the glass then slam a fist - clenched - on it, causing her to jump harshly. Eyes widening, showing fear to me only for a brief time until she composes herself once more.

**Iron Maiden, wouldn't you say, Hannibal. She has placed her battle armor on like an Amazon Warrior Queen.**

"I could ask you the same thing. But you'll want some answers to that fateful....night, I won't give them to you."

"Why not? I have you in this cell. I can easily break you to get to the answers."

**She's trying to coerce you, threatening you. You can't be broken, Hannibal.**

"You don't deserve answers, Alana. Even if you break me, with your variety of techniques so I give you them, I won't give you them." I reply, moving away from glass and heading back over to the table.

Stopping though mid-way, when I decide to say the last words, looking at her over my shoulder.

"You should've of stayed blind, when you had the chance to."

* * *

**Hannibal, open your eyes.**

_Fluttering my eyes open, I see both me and **Imaginary Will** are sitting in the woods that spread around my birthplace and turning my face too look at it, see in the far distance the starting of my family home beginning to crumble slowly into dust._

_My **Memories** it seems are falling apart and by this rate, there'll be none of them left to remember. _

**This means I'm going to disappear into inky, black waters never to be seen again doesn’t it?**

_He asks me, making me tear my gaze away from my family home to look at him, getting up out the leather armchair and the scene quickly changes, with me now holding the curved dagger in my hand - wearing the bloodied white shirt, with blood trickling down the side of my lip._

_"Don't make me relive this **Memory,** Will." I say to quell him from making me feel this **Memory** again._

**_Imaginary Will,_ ** _says nothing to me and pushes me forwards into **Memory Will,** with my hand moving on its own accord ripping through the fleshy part of his abdomen to allow for a gush of not blood....but instead **Sweet Williams** to fall out as the floor opens up beneath me. _

_I fall slowly downwards, descending into the deeply abyss made by the gaping maw that had been the kitchen floor as the flowers, spiral past me like snowflakes dancing in the air then fireflies begin to appear from the darkness, flying upwards._

_I soon land among a bed of made up of **Sweet Williams,** hearing a whimper - young and childlike - making me turn my face to look at the sight of young me, whimpering after Mischa's bone's left to the blizzard by the starving soldiers beside the fountain after they had dragged away from screaming for older brother followed soon by the thud of an axe._

**How did your Sister, taste?**

**_The Viper -_ ** _Bedelia De Maurier - hisses from somewhere in the darkness, before slinking off into the foliage near the large bed of the **Sweet Williams** as hands reach out of the ground, beneath me pulling me under into the soil as the last sight I see is Imaginary Will going over to young me and a alive Mischa, embracing both in a gentle, loving hug. _

_I pulled further down by the hands, which begin to bury me into the moist, damp rich soil where the **Lair of the Dragon** lays in the core of my **Memory Palace's** darkest **Memories.**_

_The one’s, which have Monsters of their own in them._

* * *

Waking up, I lay there staring up at the darkened ceiling of my cell - three plain blue walls and one glass one, with appropriate air holes - tears filling my eyes, but thankfully not spilling over.

Sitting up, swinging my legs off the bed and getting up head to the bathroom - opening the door hidden cleverly within the wall - then stepping inside, flick the light on - the light bulb flickering until becoming dimly bright - and close the door behind me.

The starchy prison uniform, I slip off to drop onto the tiled floor followed by the plain white tank-top and the boxers then turn my gaze to look at myself in the bathroom mirror above the sink. The bullet wound scar from the **_Great Red Dragon_** , shaped like the **_North Star_** close to my left side; the scar under my chin from Jack, hitting me with one of the torture hooks from the collection of Medieval Torture devices in the Palazzo Caponi and its Library along with the scar close to my ankle from it as well and last, but not least the worse of them - the **_Verger Brand_** of my back, that Mason Verger's lackey Cordell Doemlling had given me.

**Your scars, make you who you are, Hannibal. You can't get rid of them.**

**"** No, I can't." I whisper in reply, though more to myself I'm saying the words in the empty bathroom.

* * *

The luke-warm water rushes down my naked body, making me tilt my head backwards into the spray with my eyes closed to allow it to run down the hollow of my throat towards my hips, trickling down the inside of my thighs then some of it, plipping off onto the tiled shower floor, meandering into drain going around and around like a tiny whirlpool.

A **_Memory,_** comes to my mind. The one, where me and Will had discussed our own families and background.

_"Tell me about your, Mother."_

_"Some lazy phys-charity, Dr. Lecter. Low hanging fruit."_

_"I suspect that fruit is on a high branch. Very difficult to reach."_

_So was my Mother. Never knew her."_

_I look at Will, seeing how he rather quickly change the subject as the fire in the fireplace gently crackles and dances in the hearth, while outside snow is laying on the ground with some still falling downwards - spiralling in the crisp, night air._

_"Tell me about your, Mother. Let's start there."_

_Quid pro quo. He wanted some background information and sighing softly, begin to tell him omitting some details because I didn't want to tell him everything - the losing of Mischa, my first sight of Lady Murasaki and how she had fallen in love with me and killing the people who murdered my little sister._

_He wasn't ready for that, just yet._

Fluttering my eyes open, the Memory Conservation fading away of that meeting in my office, switch the shower off allowing silence to fill my ears with the beads of water starting to drip off my wet body, making small ripples in the remaining water on the shower floor reminding oddly of the time when Abigail - brave, strong and easy to train Abigail Hobbs - had dropped the teacup, allowing it to shatter to tiny pieces on the kitchen floor.

* * *

Stepping out of the steamed up shower, I pick up the golden wedding band off the counter to slip it back onto my ring finger and reach for the shaving kit, unrolling it. I shave the beard, calmly and methodically, feeling a slight sting when I nick myself causing a bead of blood to form among the shaving cream. I watch it forming, soon to lightly trickle down the hollow of my throat - staining it crimson.

* * *

Afterwards, coming out of the bathroom with a large towel wrapped around my waist using one of the smaller towels to dry my hair pause half-way through when I sense a presence watching me through the glass.

Who was watching me from the shadows?

Who were they?

And what did they want?

Turning my face, I see only the darkened sitting visitor area with the lamps dimmed low. There was something that didn't feel right, so walk up to the glass placing my hand flat on it - it is cold, like when the frost forms on a cold, Winter morning delicate frond or fern-like shapes.

The main heating unit for the all of the **_B.S.H.C.I._** must be not working at the moment, hence why the glass felt cold because the heating wasn't on. It made me wonder had the other Inmates in the lower levels, noticed it as well as they tried to sleep in their darkened cells with the minimum amount of light to comfort them if they had **_Nightmares._**

Lowering my hand from the glass, I head over to the bed going to pull the duvet cover back when I stiffen at a particular scent which hits my nostrils - seeping through the air holes.

_"Did you just smell me?"_

_"Difficult to avoid. That smells like something of a ship of a bottle."_

_"It's what I keep getting for Christmas."_

_"Then I change the aftershave, Dear Will."_

I quiver slightly, trying to keep myself calm in the situation willing at the same-time for my heart to stop thudding against my rib-cage, wait for the figure standing in the darkness to speak to me.

 _"Brings back **Memories** doesn't it?" _Dr. Ocrates, whispers - his voice slithering through the air holes like wispy, smoky snakes which reach out towards me - stepping out of the shadows, while in his hands holds small bottle of the aftershave which Will had used to wear.

Before I'm even thinking what I'm doing, I walk up to the air holes placing my hand through one of them gulping down saliva that is building up in my throat. He watches with hidden interest and something else, which tells me I may be up against a more violent **_Predator_** than myself.

"Give it to me, please?"

He steps more closely, placing the small bottle in my outstretched hand and going to pull it back, feel him grab it by the wrist stilling me in moving away from as far as possible. He was registering my pulse again.

_"Did you love him?"_

_"I can't answer that question."_

_"Did he make you feel, Hannibal Lecter? Feel like you were losing control, when he took you that night in your Safe-house on a bed with silken black sheets with gold ferns on them and the pillows with **Sweet William** petals on a white."_

**There is no way this Old Serpent should know this. There was no-one else there that night, only us.**

I pull my hand away, immediately - like I've been burned by this **_Older Predator_** \- when **_Imaginary Will,_** says those words to me and step away from the glass, not expecting him to say the next words to me at all.

_"Did you see potential in your, **Beloved?"**_

A tear forms, falls before I can even stop myself from doing it and voice breaking with emotion he is slowly getting out of me, hoarsely whisper the answer back to him.

_"Yes."_

* * *


	6. The Beginning of Falling into the Inferno Made by One's Beloved

** Location - Baltimore Court House, Maryland **

** Hannibal's P.O.V: **

White flashes of multiple cameras held by Newshounds, Paparazzi and single Reporters - like Freddie Lounds, almost but she was of a different breed of them and did tend to be rather rude - dance like spotlights in front of my eyes, when I step out of the hired black Uber - which had transported me from **_B.S.H.C.I._** to the Court House - holding the black cane's stag handle, with my left hand.

All these different people, hungry for what the Chesapeake Ripper; Il Mostro of Firenze even Hannibal the Cannibal has to say when he is in the Court Room, being asked questions of what happened the night the Serial Killer - **_The Great Red Dragon_** \- was murdered.

Would I be given the Death Sentence or would another option been given?

Starting to walk, I see Jack Crawford - Head of the B.A.U. and now, though retired - is standing at the top of the stairs in his usual attire - black hat, tilted to one side and his long hazel coat with soft fur trim on the collar - and head up the steps, coming to stop in front of him on the step below because my left leg is acting up again then see across the road, to my surprise a very large group of fans holding placards and posters, the leader a woman with soft, silvery hair and glasses looking like some kind of writer for stories holding a poster saying _"GIVE IS HANNIBAL LECTER HIS FREEDOM. HE IS GRIEVING. CANNOT YOU NOT SEE IT, FREDERICK CHILTON!!!"_ and wonder where is Freddie Lounds, hiding at the moment.

"Getting deju vu vibes, Dr. Lecter?"

"Not really, Jack. Though, where's the fox? Is she hiding in the henhouse?"

He gives me look at this, interested by the use of words and chuckles lightly when he figures out who I mean then indicates behind him, making me turn slightly on the step hearing my left leg choose to clicking slightly in the process seeing the familiar red-head standing there wearing a very nice attire - no doubt loaned by a pal of her's as it looked too expensive for her to buy herself.

"Miss Lounds, you don't look like you've aged a day. How do you keep yourself...so fresh-looking?" I find myself purring out the question, causing some of the Newshounds, Paparazzi included shrinking back and away from me at the words.

"Lots of healthy salads, as you would know after you made me that wonder **_Sweet William Salad_** for dinner if you remember. No meat of course."

This makes people laugh, breaking the uneasy atmosphere and comes up the steps, brushing past me on her way in, suddenly filling my nostrils with a scent that makes me stiffen on the step as I deeply inhale it - recognise it, intimately and knowingly - then it dissipates, while I feel my right hand is trembling slightly against my right thigh. Jack, who stands next to me is watching with professional curiosity at this new thing that is happening to me.

"Something wrong?" He asks me, with general concern in his voice and shake my head at him.

I didn't want him knowing. I didn't want him seeing me, breaking slowly apart at the seams like fabric being frayed because someone hidden in the shadows was pulling the strings attached to me like I was a puppet they could use for their own means.

* * *

"All stand for the Honorable Judge Drachus."

I stand up with the rest of the Court House, watching the Judge go to his high seat and sit down, indicating silently for everyone to do the same - myself included. Settling into the same seat, Will had sat in during his Court Case brings back memories of seeing how he wasn't fully paying attention to everyone around him - like he was being pulled away by something else - and remember he had told me, he sometimes when needing peace and quiet thought of a stream.

Waded quietly into it, sorted his flying fishing rod and swung out the lure into the crisp, morning air enjoying the silence of being alone with himself, the stream and the fishes swimming in the clear, crystal water.

"We here to discuss today, the case of the recently incarcerated Hannibal Lecter and what Justice should be carried out. First, how some background information courtesy of Dr. Frederick Chilton, who will bring us up to date."

**Frederick. Hmm, should have killed him instead of framing him, Hannibal.**

**_Imaginary Will,_** says quietly in the back of my mind and internally "Shh" him, seeing how the so said man looks different ever since having many skin grafts from many donors to save his life after he been set on fire by **_Francis Dolerhyde._**

"Not much is known about, Hannibal Lecter. Not many people know how he become **_The Chesapeake Ripper_** or **_Il Mostro of Firenze._** I have managed to obtain some pertinent almost private information from a **_Private source._**

_What **Private source** would that be, I wonder, Chilton?_

I think, internally as Chilton walks over to projector already set up for whatever he was going to show the Judge and the whole Court Room then decide to ask him a question to make him sweat out the answer for me, when he switches it on to reveal a picture of my family.

"Your Honor, May I ask Dr. Chilton, if he does not mind a...very pertinent question?" I ask Judge Drachus, hearing murmurs behind me from people in the Court Room - also in the pews behind me.

"Granted."

Chilton, gulps with his Adam's apple bobbing slightly in the process at the side-look I give him, while keeping my gaze on the old photo of my Mother, Father, with his face though scratched out like someone had wanted it not there and finally myself, with Mischa sitting on my lap giggling as I tell her a joke to make smile at the camera. It had been nice day, only spoiled by something I couldn't remember in full detail because I never saw all it, just heard the raised voices of my Mother and Father shouting in the study, followed by silence. The weeping began for the next few weeks, before their deaths. I never found it, if it been my Mother crying at the time.

"How did you get permission, Dr. Frederick Chilton, to rifle though my family's private life?" I ask, seeing how he becomes slightly flustered loosening his tie around his throat and continue. "Only the surviving heir of the **_Lecter Estate_** can give permission for them to be taken out of their sealed state and I am the only surviving **_Heir."_**

"Umm....they were mailed specifically to me, after your family home was sold off in an Auction."

I tear my gaze away from the photo, looking at him and try to compose myself from doing anything rash at the moment. This was new information I had not been told at all.

"By who?"

He raises an eyebrow, stepping close to me - but still keeping a relative short distance away from me - and flicks his gaze down to the ring on my finger, giving a smug grin at me then gives his answer.

"You of all people, should know that. Your wear his wedding ring...on your ring finger, Hannibal."

Heart skips a beat, followed by standing up without any rational thought and have to place on hand on the back of the chair to grip tightly in white-knuckled grip to stop myself from stepping forwards, while the blood pounds in my ears blocking out all sound - causing it to become muffled, like I'm underwater - then a hand touches my shoulder, forcing me to sit back down as I distantly hear Judge Drachus saying _"Dr. Ocrates, please control your Client."_ and me saying "Apologies, Your Honor. I'll do better to control my emotions next time."

Chilton satisfied with his small victory, goes on with his talk - going into every detail of my unburied past and bringing it harshly into the light for all to see - what happened to my family; his theory on how Mischa, my little Sister died and finally, all comes up to the **_Night of the Great Red Dragon._**

"Now, we come to a tricky part here. Hannibal Lecter, will not at all discuss with even Alana Bloom - Head of the . ** _B.S.H.C.I_** and Owner of **_Verger Estate_** \- what happened that night when Francis Dolerhyde - The Great Red Dragon - was slayed. Any questions asked about it, are met with hard resistance and him changing the subject entirely to something else irrelevant implying to my theory...that Hannibal Lecter has been damaged by a very traumatic experience that happened that night. Jury Members, I leave you this information. Do with it what you will."

The Jury to my side, begin to talk amongst themselves whispering - like snakes slithering over each other to keep themselves warm - and finishing, one of them - bolder and not seeming afraid he was about to ask Serial Killer a question.

"Is this true, Hannibal Lecter, you've been constantly avoiding trying to answer the question about the night when **_F.B.I_** Agent Will Graham disappeared."

I can feel the eyes of Judge Drachus, the people in the Court Room - Newshounds, Paparazzi and Camera crew even - watching and waiting, while a clock on the wall seems to tick rather loudly to my ears, with bated breath for my answer.

"It....brings back painful memories, I rather not re-live if you don't mind. And also it's none of your damm...fucking business to know what happened that night. You don't need to know at all."

Shocked gasps at my rudeness - the swearing, which would made Will proud if he were still alive - come from people and hear Judge Drachus, bang the hammer down on the gavel hard silencing the whole room.

"Hannibal Lecter, if you speak once more like that to Jury Member and don't answer the question properly. I will have you forcibly removed and returned to your prison cell, where I will ask Mrs. Alana Bloom nee Verger to remove everything in it."

A threat, a very good one as well. I apologise to the Jury Member, who accepts it with calm, indifferent face meaning they were not going to show emotion in a Court fill of people - but his name would stick in my head, Paul Krendler along with what recipes I could make him into - then pouring a glass of water, drink some of it to calm my nerves before I continue.

"Back to the questions. And why not, Hannibal Lecter?

**I say marinate him or cut his skull open, fry his brains in pan of butter then feed them to him.**

I quiet **_Imaginary Will,_** quickly shutting him in bedroom in my mind so he keeps quiet and doesn’t interrupt me again. I feel like sand running through someone's fingertips, not able to be caught and lifting my head, answer him.

"Because.....Will Graham, the man....who I have....loved and will always **_Love_** in my heart, ended up dying after....the **_Dragon_** came for us. We become...so badly wounded by him, that.....I don't remember what happened next ....." I try to finish the rest, but my voice cracks apart followed by wrapping my arms around myself - my composure snapping apart like thin strand of spider silk breaking apart in the wind.

Tears form, brim heavily over the edges - while everyone can see I'm not faking - falling onto the polished Court Room floor and breathing heavily, take another deep breath then continue once more.

"Will Graham, died that night, and I, survived. Jack Crawford, found me and can tell you the rest of what happened because I have no memory of some of that night."

I turn my gaze to Alana, seeing her pale, ashen-ed face at what she has just heard me say out loud everyone including Jack Crawford, who looks numb with shock.

"This is why, I didn't want to tell you, Alana, Jack. Because....I wanted to keep you still remembering him the way he had been, before everything went wrong."

* * *

** TATTLECRIME WEBSITE  **

** "THE CHESAPEAKE RIPPER CONFESSES TO HAVING LOVED AND STILL LOVING DECEASED F.B.I. AGENT WILL GRAHAM" **

** By Freddie Lounds **

_Today at Baltimore Court House, it proved to be the most emotional and heart wrenching of Court Cases of Hannibal Lecter - **The Chesapeake Ripper** or **Il Mostro of Firenze -** who after some thorough questioning, has revealed the most hidden secret he has kepted from the world. _

_That he was in **Love** with Will Graham - like Dante was to Beatrice in his Sonnets, only Dante could admire her from afar seeing how she fallen for another man. Though Hannibal, managed to get close to Graham intimately one might say after discovering his ability to think like Serial Killer’s and now confirmed by admitting it in Court. _

_But what happened that **Night of the Dragon** , as it is now being called, Hannibal Lecter is saying........_

The person, in the shadows, with only the faint glow of the laptop illuminating the apartment siting room slams the lid shut followed by leaning back in the armchair keeping their face in the shadows. Seeing the picture of Hannibal, which comes below the article, they clench their first tightly at it, while sea-blueish green eyes glint in the moonlight filtering through gap in the large red curtains.

* * *

** Hannibal's P.O.V:  **

"Dr. Lecter, I did not expect what you said today in the Court Room." A voice says muffled and far away interrupting the haze I'm in. "What made you say it? You really loved, Will Graham didn't you?"

Lifting my head up, I see it is Freddie Lounds, standing in front of me holding two cups of takeaway coffee in her hands.

"Hmm, what did you say, Miss Lounds?"

This makes her frown at me, placing the takeaway cups down on the table in front of me and reaches forwards, placing the back of her hand against my forehead to check my temperature.

"Where you at this moment, Hannibal? She asks her, moving her hand away when she see's nothing is wrong in a fever way.

"Nowhere." I reply, getting up out the seat and she steps closer to me, going to say something only close her mouth - deciding now is not the time to say it.

Neither of us really know what to say to each-other and she slips away, after leaning up to gently kiss my cheek, stroking a strand of hair from my forehead to tuck it gently behind my ear then slips away, heading out of the Court room leaving me alone.

I see she has left one of the takeaway coffee cups, which picking up take the lid off seeing hidden within is small smartphone and take it out, switching it on to see it password protected with question above the box.

**WHERE DOES THE DIFFERENCE BETWEEN THE PAST AND FUTURE COME FROM?**

Re-echoing the words I had said to Will in the Uzzi Gallery, while both of us sat in front of one of Botticelli’s paintings and typing the answer **_"MINE. BEFORE HIM AND AFTER HIM."_** watch quietly, while the screen changes.

Words begin to form on the black background.

_I have become the **Shade** in your **Memory.**_

_Through the hallways and many rooms in your Memory Palace, I must flee._

_They - your **Nightmares** of the **Past** \- must not sense I'm here. _

_Through eternal suffering; loss of the family we could had shared and life, I must take flight with wings of black like crow feathers._

_I have become the **Shade,** you grieve for because I'm not in your embrace._

_Here as you begin your journey, Hannibal, through the **Inferno** of your **Memory Palace,** I'll be watching from the shadows from a distance._

_We cannot meet. Not until you have travelled through Inferno and come out unscathed from the flames._

_Only then, after that you will find me near a fountain with angel looking downwards and where you will discover that close to the water **Fireflies** dance with the **Snails.**_

The screen fades to black, with a picture appearing making me turn the phone landscape to look at it then my heart skips a beat at the sight of Botticelli's painting - the one I used to draw when in my youth - represented in full-scale in the same place Matthew Brown - a former B.S.H.C.I. orderly - had tried to kill me, because Will had asked him to.

* * *

_"Easy. Forwards. Back it up a bit. Got it."_

Jack, standing next to me in the Cherry picker shouts down to the man operating it and we come to a juddering halt, right over the large fresco placed in the swimming pool as I look up and down the length of it, while in the swimming pool Agent Price and Zeller move carefully about as not to disturb anything of significance that may show who had made it.

"How did you about this, Hannibal?" Jack asks me, while I hold onto the railing in front of me with both hands to grip it for support.

"A test, Jack. To see whether I can travel through the metaphorical Inferno, like Dante did and come out unscathed." I reply, looking down at the fresco feeling my eyes slip close.

The golden pendulum swings in front of my eyes, once then twice followed by final third time.

I open my eyes.

_We have planned this, ever we decided it. Meticulously thinking and careful planning it all in time._

_The **Prey** already stalked and picked out of the others - the one's they consider " **Prey”.** They had no idea at the time, that we " **The Apex Predator”** were hunting them and by the time they found out it was too late._

_We set the scene, laying the pieces down and arranging them to our needs. Like when one is setting a table for a **Dinner party.**_

_We step back to admire our finished work. The task that has been done._

_This is our .... **Design.**_

Coming out of the re-construction, I flutter my eyes open looking at the right hand corner where Agent Price is heading towards, where the woman being chased by the man are both laying.

"Agent Price, could you tell me are those **_Sweet Williams_** coming out of the woman's mouth?"

I shout down to him, making him bend to have a look and he turns his face to look up at me, with shock and amazement on his features.

"How did you know?" Jack asks me, while the Cherry picker descends downwards and when it comes to a rest, turn my face to look at him.

"Because it is what this new **_"Fledging Killer"_** wanted me to see." I reply, turning my gaze back to man chasing the female, with **_Sweet Williams_** flowing from her mouth.

**What do you see?**

_I see you my, **Beloved.** I see you. _

* * *


	7. Stepping on the Path towards Inferno within One's Mind and Whispers through One Own's New Chrysalis

** Hannibal's P.O.V: **

_"Tell me what happened today at Baltimore Swimming Pool."_

Lifting my head from the dinner that Dr. Ocrates has made himself, while both of us sit at the large eating table in the Walking Exercise Room eating the meal together. He is wearing a fine **_Cranbourne_** suit, crimson tie with gold swirls on it and fine soft diamond shaped cufflinks on his wrists.

"A fresco had been made of a Botticelli painting, I had used to draw in my youth when staying in Florence." I tell him, sitting back in the ornate chair as I pick up the glass of **_Bodega Classical Palacio del Camino Real Blanco_** wine, to inhale its scent.

A mixture of cooked apple fruit supported by sweet peach and wrap-around vanilla texture fills my nostrils then take a sip of it, feeling it sooth my palate and complement the meal he had made, with some ingredients he had brought from his own home.

"Ahh, yes. I know which one you mean. How were they represented? The woman with flowers flowing from her mouth, while the man chased her."

"It was to show ** _"The Lustful"_** or carnal-malefactors. These two people had grown up separately and the man had watched the woman from afar seeing her happy and in **_Love."_**

"Jealousy, no doubt. The man begins to soon lust after her, because he felt she should have chosen him instead. Wouldn't you say?" Dr. Ocrates says, picking up his glass of **_Chateau d'Yquem_** and taking a sip of it.

"Are you talking from past experience? Maybe you are. How long before she begin to suspect you were manipulating her?"

_Like are you me._

Those words hang in the air, between us and everything goes silent, while he lowers his glass back down onto the table then dabbing his lips with napkin, gets out his chair to come around the table to where I sit.

Before I know it or see it, his hand harshly backhands me across the face with such force, it causes my bottom lip to split in the process drawing blood then my chin is grabbed by his hand, turning my face by it forcing me to stare into those soul-less eyes.

He leans forwards, tongue flicking out - like serpent's tongue - to lap up the blood starting to trickle down the side of split lip and brushes it against my lips, tasting the wine still on my lips then covers my lips with his, causing me to close them, only to wince when he nips my lips forcing them to open.

All I can do is stay still, trembling heavily with tears forming in my eyes to run down the sides of my cheeks and try to pull back away from the Old Serpent, managing to do so, my head soon lolling to one side at the sametime feeling a slight prick of a needle going into my skin.

_"No...No...Please, don't do this to me....No."_

_"Hush. Now. I'm going to take care of you, Hannibal.....like I have with your **Beloved."**_

I don't hear the rest of the words whispered, only my name with blackness succumbing my vision dragging me downwards into an abyss so deep and dark - it feels **_Insidious_**.

I remember nothing from thereafter.

****

**_Forgiveness_ ** **is too great and difficult for one person. The _Betrayer_ and the _Betrayed. Betrayal_ and _Forgiveness_ are best seen akin to falling in _Love._**

**_The Viper,_ ** _hisses from among ferns, growing among the foliage of the night-forest and through the webbing of the **Chrysalis** I'm lying curled up in. I want to stay in it, the warmth of it and never come out at all. _

_But I must._

_Placing my hands on the fine mesh of the **Chrysalis,** I rip it apart gasping breathlessly - like I've been starved of oxygen - and arching my back, tilting my head backwards to stare through the tree canopy eaves seeing a multitude of stars spreading like a path in the sky. _

_I've been re-birthed._

**Is Hannibal in _Love_ with me?**

_A whisper - like a soft breeze ruffling the top of trees - sounds, making me get up slowly following through the tangled forests with branches over me like a Chapel roof._

_The beating of wings. A solitary **Hawk** flies overhead, heading towards the landscape that appears before me. Grey ash spread from miles upon miles, with bleached white skeletons on or in it along with dead trees then begin to walk across the dried up **Sea of Ash.**_

_My only companion - a **Solitary Hawk.**_

_The roaring, which I hear while walking up a large **Ash** sand-dune makes me turn my face to watch as in the far distance the wind starts to swirl on the ground until rising to its full height. _

_A windstorm, ever circling around and around. Like a hurricane forming it begins to move across the dried up sea-bed of the Sea of Ash, picking up the skeletons in its wake or path._

_It starts to head towards me, the wind from it whipping my hair about and it comes so close to me that as it circles with one of the skeletons hanging out, everything goes into slow motion._

_A bony finger comes up, muscles and veins forming along with the rest then lift their head to reveal their face to me - a face from my **Past,** before the events of the **Dragon** and before so other things._

**See. See.....what is coming.**

_Then everything goes back to normal, the windstorm whipping off to continue its path then turn my gaze to see what..... **Abigail**.....had told me was coming and can do nothing but stare. It rises and falls, cresting over the large Ash sand-dunes and heading straight towards me, while I try to run backwards. _

_Only to find myself rooted to spot, feeling the crimson waters slam into me with such intense force, I'm caught up in the swirling mass finding myself not able to breathe or even reach the surface only instead being dragged downwards with bubbles of oxygen rising upwards towards the surface._

**Will all the perfumes of sweet Arabia, cleanse these poor hands of mine.**

**_The Viper,_ ** _hisses the quote from Macbeth in my ear, making me shoot my eyes open to reveal I'm lying on the polished stone floor of the **Palermo Chapel,** naked in film of **Sweet William** petals from the **Sea of Ash.**_

_She slithers off me, onto the polished floor Chapel floor and shifts into her human form revealing a Bedelia in a snake-scale dress that shimmers in the soft dawn light streaming through the windows._

_Getting up slowly and gently, I feel the **Sweet William** petals falling off my nude body to the floor then suddenly arch my back, a burning sensation going through my skin right over the existing brand. _

**Mason, wanted to brand your face. I told him, better to brand you like one of his pigs’ right here between the shoulder blades.**

_The ghost of Cordell Doemlling, whispers behind my back soon disappearing as ropes shoot outwards out of the shadows wrapping themselves around me some slithering up to start choking me around the throat and the one's tightening around my wrists pull my arms back by them then a blood-curdling cry - my own - echoes in the abandoned Chapel, followed by bones cracking apart._

_My life-force spurting everywhere, followed by the ropes slithering back into the shadows and fall backwards onto the engraved carving of the skeleton with its hands clasped like they have been chained or handcuffed together then dust begins to fall from the ceiling at the sametime underneath me a crack forms to open up like a giant maw of blackness._

_I fall, soon landing heavily at the bottom of the well - the same one, I had placed Miriam Lass in - and now, both my arms have become stumps - representing what I had done to Abel Gideon - then shivering heavily, a shadow blocks out the light making me lift my head up with eyes widening at the sight of the person._

_Chiyoh, with someone behind her hiding in the darker shadows and she kneels down, placing her hand on the lid slamming it shut with firm bang dousing me into the cold, wet darkness of the well._

* * *


	8. Returning Home to a Place of One's Birth, Where Shadows of the Past are Hidden and An Admission from the Old Serpent

** Location - Aukstaitija, Lithuania - Night  **

** Hannibal's P.O.V: **

I wince heavily, every amount of movement I try to make sending every inch of my body screaming in brutal agony with my hands digging deep grooves into the leaves of the forest floor then fluttering my eyes open, my head lolling to one side because I'm still drowsy and weak from whatever I've been given seeing a sight that sends my heart racing at it.

In front of me is the one place I didn't want to see again, because of the Memories it brought back.

My birthplace - **_Lecter Dvaras Estate._**

_\--------------------------------------------------------------------_

Managing to get up, stumbling backwards to lean against a large _"v"_ shaped tree, leaves sticking to the clothes and long threadbare coat falling off to land back onto the forest floor they belong to then in the far distance, can see the large Tower with sunset ivy growing upwards on the crumbling ruin of what had once been a lively home.

Fill of laughter, happiness and joy now silenced by the events that had happened after my family had been murdered - Mischa killed by the starving soldiers, The Orphanage where I was nearly sexually assaulted by some older Orphan's ruthless Leader and finally, Uncle Robertus coming to adopt me and raise me properly.

A snapping of twig underfoot, makes me listen quietly - like when a deer listens out for a Predator and make sure whether there is a threat or not - moving silently away from the tree, walking through the forest with autumn leaves on the trees, without making any sound then come to the fountain.

Who would be hunting me in the dark?

Another twig snaps underfoot to my right, while I continue to stand staring at the sight of the **_Fireflies_** dancing with the **_Snails_** \- who move about, slithering over the tangled Rose bush thorns and emerald Ivy - then feel a presence behind me, with the scent of his aftershave filling my nostrils - permeating them - and quivering heavily, turn to face Dr. Ocrates as he comes up to me.

A hand comes up to cup my cheek, lightly stroking my cheekbone and before I know it or can say anything, he pulls me flush against him as something sharps stabs straight into my abdomen ripping across it in the same way I had given Will his scar - the **_Joker's Grin -_** feeling some blood splash onto the paved area near the fountain, while I gasp in shock followed by gripping his arm tightly with one hand for support.

"You!!?....Why!!!?....."

_"Hmm. Why do you think?"_

He whispers in my ear, breath hot against my cheek and pulls back to look at me, gasping labourly with my chest rising and falling then pulls away from me, allowing me to collapse against the fountain holding one hand to the gaping wound - which comes short though, stopping just near the **_North Star_** the **_Dragon_** gave me - feeling the blood gush through my fingers to stain the ground around me and the clothes, I wear.

"Do you think you could change me?"

Dr. Ocrates, gives me at look at these words looking down at me and watching, the way I'm trying to keep my strength from failing then kneels down on one knee placing the hand holding the curved knife.

"I already have....by forcing you to come back to your **_Birthplace_** and confront the **_Demons_** of your **_Past_** and the **_Bad Memories_**. Though, you are not yet ready for the rest of this place just yet."

I try to say something, only to fall to one side with a muffled thump hands in front of me, almost looking like they have been chained like the engraved skeleton one's in the **_Palermo Chapel_** then chest rising and falling, feel my heartbeat slowly going downwards until I breathe my last breath, slipping my eyes close as **_Death_** sweeps inwards on **_Raven_** wings.

Wings as black as **_Midnight._**

* * *


	9. Returning Back to the Place, Where the Night of the Dragon Transpired, the Second Letter and Reunited with One's Beloved

** 11 MONTHS LATER  **

** Location – Safe-house near the Rolling Atlantic Ocean **

** Hannibal's P.O.V: **

**_The Safe-house_** , has been surprisingly left undisturbed by the ** _F.B.I_** and in good condition, like they had not known to what to do with it after cleaning the paved courtyard of the body of Francis Dolerhyde - **_The Great Red Dragon_** \- as I stand near the eroding bluff, which has had a barrier placed on it to stop people falling over the edge, listening quietly to the waves crashing against the large rocks below - the same rocks, we had both come close to hitting - as the slightly harsh wind whips my now long blonde hair with silvery highlights tied back by the black hairband.

I step away, heading to the over to the house seeing the large window has been fixed at some point and the patio, re-paved - everything cleaned to make it look, nothing had happened here at all - then going over to the front door, bend down lifting up the plant pot turning it upside down slip the bottom off to reveal the spare key.

I stand up straight, placing a key in the lock and turning it, push the door open with one hand then taking a deep breath step inside, calmly shut it behind me. White covers have been placed over everything in the Safe-house, making me sigh softly and go over to the piano taking hold of the white sheet then pull it off to reveal an envelope with my name on it written in Will's handwriting.

_\---------------------------------------------------_

The sun is setting over the rolling Atlantic ocean, turning it into shimmering liquid of lilac, soft yellow and orange in the far distance when I come out of the shower with steam curling outwards from the open door's then go over to the bedside table, picking up the envelope - after drying my hands thoroughly with the small towel - and open it, taking the letter out as something falls to the ground with a soft thump making me look down to see what it is.

A small bunch of **_Sweet Williams,_** tied together with black chemise lace and kneeling down pick it up then walk backwards to sit on the end of the large bed, starting to read the letter he had written or has written.

Could it be that Will was alive, without my knowledge?

I start to read, words flowing off the paper and his voice echoing in my head, soon dropping it to the carpet lay backwards to stare up at the ceiling with the mirror in it shutting my eyes shut to block out everything feeling a tear trickle down my cheek to roll down onto the duvet cover.

A sliding noise makes me stiffen, laying still and hearing soft footsteps padding into the bedroom. The scent of Will's aftershave fills my nostrils - wrapping itself around me - and the bed dips slightly, under the weight of the person covering me with their shadow then open my eyes to reveal a sight above me, followed by my voice choking up when I say his name.

"W....i....ll"

\--------------------------------------------------------------------

Time stands still.

Will Graham - the man I loved and will always love - is alive in front of me, leaning over me more accurately to look down at me and bringing one trembling hand up to his cheek then touch it lightly, with my fingertips finding it real and so alive.

Hitched whimpers escape from my mouth, followed by pulling him down to cradle him in my arms burying my face into the crook of his neck then he rolls to lay on his side, sifting his hand through my hair to calm me as move to lay the side of my head on his chest listening to the throbbing beat of his heart.

"I....thought you...had died that night."

\-------------------------------------------------------------

Soft music, plays from the radio - which Will, had found in the back of the wardrobe in a packed up box and checked it wasn't something the F.B.I had bugged in case I had returned to this Safe-house - while both of share a plate of black olives, French bread made and baked in the oven with French cheese melted on top - a simple meal for now.

At the sametime, he kisses me breathlessly delving his tongue into my mouth to entwine with my own and moving the plate out the way, placing it on the bedside table, he soon hauls me up onto my knees, and with our arms wrapping around each-other's body.

One hand rests on my back, over the Verger Brand - like he wants to claw it off my back - and his other sifting through my hair then he let's go of my lips, descending them down to my neck causing me to tilt my head backwards to the ceiling gasping breathlessly as his moist, warm lips trail up and down my neck.

We fall backwards on top of the duvet cover, when he pushes me back in the process, with a soft muffled thump. He soon slips downwards, kissing the scars on my front - the **_North Star,_** from the **_Great Red Dragon_** , Jack's scar on my chin from the Torture hook and the half **_Joker's Grin_** \- then slips further downwards, going between my thighs and sliding my hands downwards take hold of his cheek with one hand - stroking his cheekbone with my thumb.

The other I take hold of the back of his head with, sifting it through his hair followed by tensing immediately, my hips arching off the duvet cover releasing into his warmth, moist mouth - abdomen muscles sucking inwards - then thighs quivering around his head, sink back down again as my toes uncurl from the duvet cover.

_"Haaa....I **Love** you."_

_"I know."_

* * *


	10. Continuing the Journey through the Inferno as Secrets Come to Light, A Dinner with Old Frenemies and Shone the First Crime Scene from the New Player on the Mahjong Board is shown to One

** Hannibal's P.O.V: **

_"Can't you stay?"_

_"I wish, I could, Hannibal. But, you must as I said in the letter you must see me at the place in your **Birthplace."**_

_"You said we wouldn't meet again. What made you change your mind, Will?"_

Will, who is busy buttoning up a black shirt turns his face to look at me, still lying under the large duvet cover of the bed propped up against a mound of pillows and smile softly comes around the large bed, sitting down on the side of the bed then takes hold of my hand, still with the golden wedding band on my ring finger and strokes it lightly smiling down at the sight of seeing it where he told me in the **_Second Letter_** where it belonged.

“What made me change my mind? I needed to see you, feel you in my arms like you needed to feel me.” He replies, bringing his hand up to hold the back of my head and leans close, kissing me lightly on the lips then it becomes bolder, tongues entwining in breathless harmony and when he pulls back with a strand of saliva connecting our lips.

I want him. Leaning close, I kiss him trying to entice him into doing what he done to me that night and he pulls away from me, breathing heavily with his chest rising and falling heavily under the black shirt then lunges at me, getting over me.

Shifting muscles, harsh breathless gasps, pants and grunts followed by Will, gripping my thigh tightly in his hand and the other resting on my back, while holding me close to me as I ride him, undulating my own hips up and down to feel him slipping in and out of me with each intense thrust that sends spine tingles running up my spine.

Tilting my head backwards, I moan heavily at the feeling of being intimate with him – after being separated for so long from him – and keep my eyes closed, focusing on the sensations he is making me feel. Alana had asked me, were me and Will ever sexually involved – well here was the answer to that question.

Neither of us speak, just succumb to feel of each-other’s bodies and being connected this intimately then tense in his arms, gasping softly his name in the stillness of the bedroom, with the sun shining onto our gleaming bodies covered in dew drops of sweat.

_“Will.”_

Afterwards, now standing at the front door in a clean suit and the threadbare coat – which had originally been his – both of kiss, softly moving our lips against each-other’s changing position each time to make it more deeper then when he pulls back, feel him caress my ring finger with his golden wedding band on it.

“I love you, my **_Marido asesino_**.” He says, calling me Murder Husband in Spanish and pulling him in for one last kiss, pull back stroking both his cheekbones with my thumbs.

“I love you as well, **_Myilamis.”_** I say, resting my forehead against his and he pulls away, smiling softly then let’s go of my hand, slipping away until we next meet again and can embrace fully.

The large shopping complex, is fill of people going back and forth their everyday lives – shopping bags in their hands, phones being used as the younger generation text or call their pals and the older generation just enjoying each-other’s company – as I walk through the mass of them, heading towards the Old Food Shop to collect ingredients for the remaining days I would be staying in the **_Safe-house._**

It is still there in the far corner, across from the large Bank with faded golden Elizabethan writing on the glass door and pushing it open, hear a shop bell tinkling above my head reminding distantly of the time when I had gone to Tobias Budge’s Shop then step fully into the interior.

The different smells of freshly cut herbs – Lavender, Basil, Chives and the rest of the Herb family- along with a fresh bread smell fill my nostrils, while I walk down one of the aisles then come to stop, reaching for some of the Basil and mint leaves then placing them in the small basket, head over to where they keep the fresh loaves when a scent makes me straighten up seeing reflected through an old mirror that Alana and Margo, have come in with their son – Morgan.

I look more closely, frowning suddenly at the little one – curly hair with hints of blonde mixed within it and yet, he had none of Mason Verger’s features at all – and taking in the details, wish to deny what I’m seeing.

But there was no denying it. The little one, looked just like me and Will, combined by DNA and feel so betrayed by Alana. The little one was mine and Will’s biological son in some way and picking up the some of the French Loaves, go to place them in the basket when because my hand is trembling so much drop the basket plus glass cylinders of the Herbs.

Blood soon plips onto the wooden floor, while I wince slightly clenching my hand to stem the flow of blood from the cut and keep my face lowered, when high heels appear in front of my vision.

“Are you alright? To you need some medical aid?” She says, while little Morgan comes up to her and takes hold of one of her hands, while I flick my gaze up to him quickly seeing how he looks at me curiously then getting up, shake my head at her silently.

The Shop-owner comes over, with dustpan and brush wiping the remnants of the shattered glass, spilled herbs and picks up the French loaves then heads into the back, while coming back with a bandage and indicates to come into the back so they can apply it.

Afterwards, I head back through seeing Alana is just standing up holding in her hand, the golden band wedding ring, Will had given me and taking a deep breath, step close reaching out with my hand to take it off her when she closes her fist over it then turns her gaze to look straight at me, stepping closer to me it makes me step backwards hitting the shop counter and place both my hands on it to stabilize myself.

“Is it you?” She asks me, pressing herself right up against me, I flinch heavily at her look and go over to move away – away from her - when suddenly she grabs me slamming me back against the counter with such force, bottles of prosciutto fall off to smash onto the floor with tinkling noise of glass smashing into million small pieces.

The current of crimson, spreading outwards like a blood pool from where they’ve shattered and reflecting us both – in my imagination I see the ** _Wendigo_** and her imago **_“The Ochre Siren”_** – and grabbing her wrist of the hand, that holds the ring tighten it tightly – feeling the tiny bones, grinding – and manage to make her release enough to reveal it.

I take it, slipping it back on my ring finger and fling her hand away from me, slipping away from her then walk past Margo and little Morgan, who steps to one side hiding behind her leg and yet, looking at me with child-like curiosity.

Heading to the shop door, I see Jack Crawford closely followed by **_S.W.A.T_** men, guns leveled and trained at me, turn my gaze to look back at her then sighing softly, open the glass door and step out of the shop. I walk forwards, until I’m standing right in front of Jack, who is looking at me trying to comprehend how in hell I’m alive and why did I look so different.

“Hello, Jack. Could we talk somewhere more private? You know how the Gossips are in this kind of place.”

“Where the hell have you been?”

“Home, Jack. I’ve been home and now, come back because something else has come up. Tell me about **_“La Morte’s Shadow”_** , Jack? Tell me, why does this **_“Fledging Killer”_** copy the Crime scenes I done right down to every…detail?”

“You can’t possibly know this info. It hasn’t been released to Press at all.”

“A Little Birdy, sang in my ear and I, listened, Jack. Oh, did I listen to their tune.”

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

** Location – Safe-house near the Rolling Atlantic Ocean – Mid-morning **

** Hannibal’s P.O.V: **

The popping of a cork from a bottle of **_Rioja Crianza 2016, Spain,_** that I’ve just opened allows for release of smell telling it me it has been spending a year in oak, mellowing its flavors and also, filled with succulent bramble fruit then set out three wine glasses for myself, Jack, Alana and Margo, along with the glass of orange juice for Little Morgan.

It would complement the roast lamb, I’m serving and placing the glasses down on the dining room table at the seats where Alana and Jack will be sitting, hear the doorbell ringing then head across the dining room to the front door, opening it to reveal Jack, standing there looking at the courtyard – or what had been the courtyard as it now had the stone slabs ripped up to reveal the fertile ground beneath and turned into garden with a Japanese and Florentine theme to it.

A car pulling up, makes me see it is Alana coming up the gravel driveway behind the **_Safe-house_** and come to halt, soon killing the engine then she opens the car door, stepping out of the passenger as I see sitting in the Driver’s seat is Margo Verger. She keeps her face turned away and there was mistaking the slight flinch, she makes when Alana goes to kiss her cheek then gives a fake smile and says something I don’t hear.

In the back, his Little Morgan and before I can stop myself walk over to the car as he pushes the door open then jumps out, looking at me when I bend down to his eye level smiling softly at him.

“Hello, little one, are you hungry?”

Little Morgan, nods with small _“Uh-uh”_ and reaches my hand, wanting to hold it so interlacing my fingers with his smaller one’s stand up walking to the house, seeing how Jack is watching as Little Morgan, begins to talk to me about how after Lunch he wants to see my garden, while Jack passes me to help Alana with something.

I smile down at little boy, nodding in reply and coming to the front door head inside with him to the dining room, where he suddenly turns to hug me tightly around my legs starting to whimper softly with tears forming in his eyes.

“Morgan.” I begin to say, but he shakes his head fisting his hands into my suit trousers and placing my hand on the top of his head, sift it through his curly locks to calm him, feeling him tremors against my legs then kneeling down on both knees, wrap my arms around moving my other hand to cradle the back of his head and push it into my chest, where he buries his face into the warmness of it still crying in my lap.

It’s what Margo and Jack see when they come into the dining room – the sight of me holding the little one, in such a gentle embrace and also stills Alana, in walking further in as she closes the front door behind her.

Taking the Roast lamb – normal lamb, not someone because my strength to try and kill was not yet fully back – out of the oven, I close it with my elbow carrying the steaming oven dish into the sitting room where Little Morgan, Margo, Alana and Jack are waiting at the dining table then place it down in the center on corkboard mat.

“A simple dish. Roast lamb, with root vegetables and herbs from the garden.” I say, picking up the carving knife and briefly looking at my reflection see **_Imaginary Will,_** appear for only a split second face covered in blood with the gash on his cheek gaping slightly then disappears when Jack, gets up and comes around to take it off me.

“Sit down, Hannibal. I’ll carve the meat for you.” He says, making me nod silently in reply giving him smile to tell him I’m alright and sit down with my back to the large windows at the head of the dining table.

Jack, carves methodically places appropriately sized slices onto the plates and adding the root vegetables and herbs, followed by the wine - **_Rioja Crianza 2016, Spain –_** being poured into three glasses, while Little Morgan takes his orange juice placing it next to his plate.

He sits next to my right, Jack on my left with Alana sitting next to him and across from her Margo as I look calmly at the empty seat in front of me – the one seat, where Will would sit looking straight at me and enjoying the food I cooked – then picking up the glass of wine, inhale it’s scent once more and take a sip to calm my nerves, placing it down on the table.

“Alana, tell me how goes the Verger Meatpacking Business. Prospering, I believe.” I ask her, slicing into the fine lamb at the sametime and taking a soft bite of it, while Jack looks interested in hearing on what she has to say.

“Mummy, brought some new hogs. One’s really big…He got the…biggest tusks you ever seen. I called him Horus.” Morgan chirps in, before she can answer and turn to smile softly at him seeing he is enjoying his portion very much.

“After one of the Egyptian Gods, the one who sees all?” I ask him, making him give another _“Uhh-uhh_ ” and remember have a book about Egyptian History on the bookshelf he might like to borrow.

“Morgan, likes History, Hannibal. The gorier, the better and has already surprised his History Teacher at school. Any History – old or even, New.” Alana says, managing to interject and gets out a Homework sheet handing to me as I take it, seeing it is very lengthy essay surprising enough about **_“The Chesapeake Ripper”_** and debating why people misunderstood him and didn’t understand him.

Little Morgan – mine and Will’s son, did meaning he had inherited my **_Beloved’s Empathy Skills_** – and ask her, if I can hold onto it to read for later on then getting out the chair, clear away the now empty plates and head into the kitchen to bring through desert – **_Blood and Chocolate Pudding._** The blood, actually being raspberry current. **_–_** and placing the dishes in the kitchen sink, filled with warm, soupy pick up the plates with desert on them and head through placing them down.

Little Morgan, seems as I come around to sit down in my chair, looks drained of energy with his head nodding down onto his chest and placing the back of my hand, against his forehead ask Jack, if he get a bowl and fill it with some cold water as well as bring a cloth through, while calmly lifting him out the seat so he can sit on my lap.

“Morgan, little one. How many fingers, I’m I holding up?” I ask him, holding up five as he weakly says _“Five”_ to me, while Jack comes back through carrying the bowl of cold water and a cloth for me then places it on the table, moving the plates out the way to make room for it.

Dabbing the cloth into the cool water, I wring it enough and bringing it up to his forehead begin to dab it softly to make sure he induced fever of whatever was affecting him goes down then gulping slightly, flick my gaze to Alana calmly sitting there holding the wine glass in her hand and not doing anything to help at all, while Margo comes over to me.

“I think, I better take him, Hannibal. He does have school, tomorrow.” Margo says, making me look up her when Morgan whimpers and turns into my chest, fisting his hands into my shirt when she goes to lift him away from off my lap.

“Margo, Could he stay with me, tonight? I could easily drop him off for you, tomorrow at his school? It’s the Levestien Private School isn’t it in Maryland, Virginia?”

“Yes. Well, I don’t see why not. I did notice you have some amazing History books on your bookshelf. Alana, Darling is that okay with you?”

Alana, turns her gaze to look at me as Jack, is called away by his phone ringing in his pocket and quietly, thanks me for the meal telling me he’ll see me sometime with one hand holding the phone to his ear then he is outside standing in the garden talking on his phone, while Little Morgan has fallen asleep in my arms.

“I hope you’re prepared for this, Hannibal.”

Jack says, when I step out of his car into crisp, cold air with red scarf wrapped around my neck to keep it warm and shrug the collar of the threadbare woolen coat tighter around me then begin to walk with him to the middle of the large field where right in the center of it is a large stag head with young woman on it – who looks just like Cassie Boyle, the deceased girl I had killed because I had considered her rude and offensive when she had laughed at old man when he had slipped on the ice when coming out the shop he owned after she had pushed him for just no apparent reason and had replayed to me _“Because it’s fun. Stop being such, dweeb, old timer”_ so had impaled her on antlers taking her lungs afterwards while she was still alive.

She had screamed, during the whole process of it when I had being doing it in the large Hut where Jack, had found Miriam Lass then come out of my thoughts going around it, to look at the dead body impaled brutally, savagely and eerily the same way I had done it to Cassie Boyle. I step backwards, seeing a message on piece of paper weighed down by a rock and picking it up see all it says is “ _DO YOU LIKE MY GIFT DR. LECTER?”_ and hand it carefully to Zeller, who takes it off me heading over to Jack to show him then the golden pendulum swings once, twice and finally a third time pulling me into the reconstruction of the Crime Scene.

**_Prey_ ** _is weak, panicking with her **Fear** rolling off her bodies in sweet waves towards me as stroke her cheek lightly with my gloved hand and placing my hands flat on her chest push her hard sending her flying backwards soon to be gloriously impaled by the antlers of the Stag’s head. _

_A choked gasp, followed by crimson spilling gushing out her mouth to run down it like waterfall going over the edge or water going through a mountain valley then taking the hunting knife – borrowed, not stolen from that other man the one who likes Dr. Lecter so much._

_Sea-bluish green eyes, curly soft brown hair and a scar running down his cheek from fighting. Should have been my scar, not theirs and going over to the young women begin to prepare her for him._

_Do you see me, Dr. Hannibal Lecter? This is my gift to you. **This is my Design.** _

I come out of it, stumbling backwards and walking quickly over to some shrubs soon violently heave up what I had eaten just minutes ago – the parts of Roast lamb, root vegetables and herbs – and onto the pure, white snow staining it then shuddering, wipe my mouth of the acidic taste still feeling it in my mouth and heave a wee bit again followed by open water bottle being handed to me by Agent Price.

“Be glad, I can cope with someone puking their guts up.” He says, while I take a drink of the refreshing cool water and swallow it down stepping back away from the pile of vomit then kick a mound of snow over it to cover it.

“Think I may have pulled something. Probably a muscle.” I grunt out, feeling a slight twinge of pain radiating from near where the **_Joker’s Grin_** and the **_Great Red Dragon’s Star_** – as it was aptly being named by Little Morgan, after he had seen it by accident when I had been reaching to get him the **_Egyptology Book of the Egyptian Gods and Goddesses_** was – then look back at young women impaled on the Antler’s, trying to calm my racing heart which feels like it is threatening to escape from my ribcage.

Whoever this **_“Fledging Killer”_** was, they knew Will was alive and perceived him as a threat.

* * *


	11. – Another Night-time Visit from One’s Beloved with Exchange of Information and Sharing the Night Together Once More by Hunting Together

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Okay, new chapters coming now. With more suspense and mysterious Watcher who shall for now not be revealed who they are and of course a dash of Murder. 
> 
> Warnings for Homophobia and phrase used.

** Location – Safe-house near the Rolling Atlantic Ocean **

** Hannibal’s P.O.V **

_“Hannibal. I see you settled fully into this place.”_

_“Will. Come in. Supper is in the oven.”_

Will, standing in plain black suit with his hair slicked back and wearing a different brand of aftershave then walks down the path to the bench nearby to the eroding bluff then stepping out, close the front door behind me and walk down the path myself looking at the soft waves of the Atlantic going back and forth in gentle ripples.

The stars are shining above, spreading outwards in a long path, with mixture of hues of soft green and blue mixing with the soft silver light of them then sit down next to him, reminding of the time in Uzzi Gallery in front of the Botticelli Painting.

_"If I saw you everyday, Will. I would remember this day."_

_"I would to."_

"There is something, I need to tell you." I say, sitting down next to him and crossing one leg over the other and he turns his face to look at me then his hand covers mine, rubbing circles into it to calm me. "This **_Fledging Killer_** , is perceiving you as a threat and wanting to be…..”

“The object of your affections. The shattered little **_Teacup_**.” He replies, making me shake my head at this and he moves his hand to take hold of both my cheeks turning my face to look at him then places his forehead against mine, saying the next words to me.

_“ **Hunt** with me, tonight.”_

_“Haa…I’m not as strong as once was, Will.”_

_“Hannibal, you don’t have to do anything. You’re the…Lure that will reel them.”_

_“Have you chosen .you’re **Prey?”**_

_“I’ll let you choose.”_

* * *

** Location – Bar Near Wolftrap, Virginia – Night-time **

Shouting, followed a crashing of two cars outside and glass shattering makes the patrons of the Bar, still in drinking or chatting among themselves then a bloodcurdling scream coming from someone, causes a large burly, brute of a man to get up to check the disturbance – being of course the owner of the Bar. 

They step outside into the cold, crisp air with snow covering the car park and sees laying there trying in vain to get up a man with ruffled blonde hair hanging in front of his face only to collapse back down laying there with blood beginning to spread outwards from underneath them.

* * *

They manage to help the injured person, up the stairs and into one of the offices above the Bar then having enough, flings them onto a sofa hard as they give a muffled groan followed by their hand moving slightly to grip the arm of it, followed by sitting up but keeping their head lowered.

Hair in front of their face, while the large burly man goes over to mini-fridge getting out a bottle of cheap beer and cracking it open then heads back over, holding it out as a fine delicate hand takes hold of it and takes a sip still keeping their head lowered to stare at the sofa arm.

“Alright that’s enough. You had your drink, now beat it. I’ve got no time for a squabbling bitchy faggot who just broke up with their boyfriend.”

The injured person, turns their face still keeping it lowered and soon begins to chuckle lightly, followed by wide **_Joker’s grin_** spreading on their face when they finally left their head to reveal who they are.

“Then you shouldn’t underestimate a ** _Lure_** , than, Drukov.”

Drukov – the owner of the Bar – stares, stumbling backwards shaking his head back and forth trying to deny the sight in front of him of the once person he feared all his life and goes to speak, but never gets a chance do.

The curved Devil’s claw blade, pierces into the fleshy part of his stomach and rips it straight away opening it up so it becomes like a giant maw allowing for torrent of fresh blood to spurt outwards covering the walls, carpet and some of the sofa at the sametime the injured person stands up stepping into the lamp light of the swing bulb above with the sickly thud of entrails falling out.

Hannibal Lecter smirks, showing his **_Predator Teeth_** as he lunges forwards, biting down into the meaty flesh of the neck and tearing hard, severing the large vein in the neck with such force it makes Drukov’s body spasm, uncontrollably falling to the carpet with a muffled thump then finally going still, with only heavy breathing from both living occupants filling the space.

_“How do you feel?”_

_“Euphoric, stimulated and….elated.”_

* * *


	12. The Peaceful Morning after Hunting Together Last Night, Having Breakfast in Maryland, Virginia and Sharing Time Together in the Christmas Market, While Eyes Watch One From the Shadows they Hide Within

** Location – Safe-house near the Rolling Atlantic Ocean **

** Hannibal’s P.O.V:  **

_“How do you feel?”_

_“Euphoric, stimulated and….elated_

Those words repeat in my head, re-echoing and echoing as I lay under the covers of the large king size bed with Will, calmly sleeping next to me with his head resting in the crook of my neck and his hand resting on my chest where my heart is calmly beating each-time – pumping my life-force through my veins – while I rest my chin on top of his head and keep an arm around him so he is close to me feeling comforted by just his presence of being this close to me.

Last night, when we had returned to the Safe-house and after getting ready for bed, we sat on the duvet cover while I watched the ocean glittering in the moonlight and the little fireflies in the garden already dancing. I had laid in his arms – my chest to his back, one leg over one of mine, his hand around my middle and his arm around my shoulder. I had lightly caressed it with my lips and just enjoyed his embrace.

A shift against me, followed by soft “ _Hmmh”_ draws me out of the particular memory of last night then he lifts his head to look down at me, making me look up at him smiling softly at his face.

“Good morning.”

“Morning to you too, Will.”

He reaches to stroke a strand of hair from my forehead, gently tucking it behind my ear and goes to pull his hand away when I grab his wrist to kiss the inside of it with my lips then cup it to my cheek closing my eyes just to relax at the touch of it.

Feeling his thumb stroking my cheekbone lightly and fluttering my eyes open, bring my hand up to pull him down to rest my forehead against his then nuzzle softly, my nose against his affectionately making him kiss me lightly on the lips when my stomach chooses the right time to interrupt the bliss we’re having, shortly followed by his.

“I think we should get something to eat, don’t you think?”

“Hmmh, yes.”

-

* * *

** Location – Maryland, Virginia – Mid-Morning **

The drive through the City of Maryland, Virginia brings back memories of the Interviews we had shared and the quiet moments in the hired rooms, which turning my gaze to look out the window soon see **_“FOR SALE”_** sign in the one of the windows of where I once had my patients.

I could easily go back to it. Start over again and take patients in to discuss their problems with me. But, they would soon see through the facade of the lies, I would have to tell to keep myself hidden from them.

“I feel like if Jack discovers you’re alive, I’ll be separated from you again.” I say to Will, who is pulling into small car-park near a Café across from the Art Gallery – which has poster on pole outside, stating they would be hosting artwork done by Leonardo Da Vinci; Vincent Van Gogh and Michelangelo called **_“Into Eternity’s Gate”_** Collection throughout Christmas and leading up to March – and cuts the engine.

“Hannibal, let’s go and get something to eat. I don’t want to talk about the past at the moment.” He replies, unbuckling the seat-belt and reaches over to lightly squeeze my hand with his then both of us get out, stepping into the crisp, morning air as my ears become assaulted with far distant Carol singing; smells of hot food wafting from the large Market stalls of the Christmas market and families with their children walking back and forth enjoying themselves.

Pulling the woolen coat collar tighter around my neck to keep warm, I wait for Will to come around the car and he comes up to me then slips his arm in the crook of mine and taking a deep breath slip my hand out of the pocket to interlace my fingers with his.

He smiles softly at this, while we begin to walk over to the Christmas Market and have a look around like everyone else is doing, feeling calm that he is with me then come to stall with some woodcarvings of small woodland animals, snowflakes and other creative stuff then notice one, which peaks my interest – a Stag, carved with soft feathers on it and such intricate detail I pick it up gently with my free hand to look at the carving.

* * *

** The Watcher’s P.O.V: **

They watch from afar at the sight in front of their eyes from the shadow of the alleyway.

The sight of Hannibal Lecter heading to one of the stalls of the Christmas market clasping the hand of the one person, that makes them grip their wrist with faded white plastic tag on it with initials, but too faded to see or make out and find themselves digging their nails into the flesh feeling anger, jealousy and sadness that it ain’t them which the older blonde haired man is holding the hand of.

Why couldn’t it be them instead?

Why?

Why couldn’t they have been the one to be the centre of Hannibal Lecter’s affections?

Why not them?

Why that other person….Will Graham, had to be the affection and not them?

* * *

** Meanwhile in the Christmas Market  **

After purchasing the carved Stag, the both of us walk over to one of the many Café’s and step inside the warm exterior heading soon over to the far quiet corner – where we won’t be overheard - to sit down in the leather clad sofa together as I slip the coat off placing it over the armrest then pick up the menu to have a look at hot beverages, snacks and cold drinks.

I order a “ _Chai Latte_ ” and Will, orders “ _Black Forest”_ Mocha along with some Japanese Mochi cakes – made with glutinous rice and red beans – then sits back among the pillows of the leather sofa, waiting for me to say something to him.

“How….did you survive?” I ask him, quietly sitting back among the pillows and turning slightly to face him, while he reaches past me to take what we order from the female waitress then places it down on the coffee table in front of us after they have left.

“I….was picked up by a fishing trawler. They patched me up and I worked on the trawler for the remainder of time with them then went back to your Birthplace. I wander through the many empty rooms, some half-destroyed by ivy growing into the windows then came to one place I felt great sadness.”

I take a sip of the _Chai latte_ to warm myself up and know which room he means then placing it down, pick up the Mochi unwrapping it. Biting it in half, I hold out the other half for him which he takes from my hand.

“The Nursery, where Mischa slept-ed is one place I cannot step into anymore. It brings back painful memories, Will.” I reply, picking up my drink again and sipping the hot drink.

He nods in reply to this, changing the subject to other things like how the Trawler had travelled around the waters near Scottish coast – some of the roughest parts, where waves rise and crested over the trawler but never once did it get swamped or destroyed by them – where saw the towering mountains of the Island of Skye, other small places untouched by people and many different sea animals on the shorelines.

I listen to him speak, the hint of his original accent coming out and just listen to him telling me that it was never easy – his mind would go back to the **_Night of the Dragon,_** falling off the cliff and being separated so long from….me.

I reach forwards clasping my fingers in his, reaching forwards to go to kiss him and yet, feel to admit embarrassed because were in a public space then his warm lips cover mine gently in soft kiss, surprising me at the action and yet, closing my eyes softly kiss him back gently just for small time.

When I pull back, I see the other Patrons of the Café are looking at us and yet, not with disgust or anything of the nature but happiness in seeing two people – two men – having a nice time together then the owner of the Café, comes over placing down on the coffee table in front of us a bottle of **_Finest 1531 Blanquette de Limoux Brut._**

“On the house. How you’ve been married, Cajun?” He asks Will, who rubs his thumb over my the back of my hand to calm me and my Beloved smiles softly, bringing it up to kiss my knuckles lightly making me blush softly at this affection in public.

* * *

** Watcher’s P.O.V: **

They watch from the shadows, feeling like their chest is being pierced by many shards of glass at the sight of seeing both Dr. Hannibal Lecter and the other man – Will Graham – being gifted something by the Café owner then stepping backwards, further into the alleyway feel the anger rising within them.

It should be them. It should be them.

Walking further back into the alleyway, they fully turn and head deep into the shadows which soon swallow them up.

It was time for them to **_Hunt_** again.

* * *


	13. Saying Goodbye to One’s Beloved when it Comes Time for them to Leave, An Inappropriate Meeting with “*The Kitsune” who Has Spotted One at the Train Station after One’s Beloved has Left and Walking through the Park where One’s Meets Dr. Ocrates Again

** Hannibal’s P.O.V: **

_“I don’t want you to go. I want you to stay.”_

_“I know, Hannibal. But, I must leave now. I can’t stay here.”_

_“Back onto the Path for me? Alone, without you there to…comfort me?”_

_“Yes.”_

He pulls back from me, while standing on the Baltimore outdoor Train Station platform with the smoke from the engine filling the cold air with large swathes of whiteness then he cups both my cheeks, kissing me heavily to push me back into alleyway up against the brick wall and it is such a heart-wrenching one because were both separating I feel tears forming my eyes running down my cheeks heavily because I don’t want him to leave.

I manage to keep the whimpering mewls down, followed by pulling back to breathe and he wipes the tears away with both his thumbs then slips away from me, heading to the train door just before it is about to close.

He turns to look out the windows as the doors slide shut with a hiss at me and brings up his hand waving slightly as I smile softly at him doing the same then the steam fully covers the train as it soon goes out of the Train station down the tracks towards the North as I watch it silently standing alone at the train platform.

“Admiring the view, Dr. Lecter?” A voice – a familiar female voice – asks drawing me out of the pleasant haze and turn my face to see it is Freddie Lounds standing there a knapsack over one shoulder very close to me.

“If you consider yourself part of it. Then No is my answer.” I say, not really feeling like talking to her at the moment and walk past her heading out the Train Station towards the park just too fully get away from her.

* * *

_“Look just give me one small conversation for Tattle-crime website on this **Fledging Killer.”**_

_“Freddie, I don’t know anything about them.”_

_“Fine, then. What about your companion who was with you today? Who was he? He looked eerily like Will Graham, Hannibal. Even though that man is dead or so some believe. Then of course the rumor spreading about the child of Alana Bloom and Margo Verger is not actually of Verger Line but off a Bastard one.”_

I whirl around to face her, causing her to bump into my chest as she trips over a buried root of a tree in the ground and lifts her head to look up at me then placing both my hands on her arms, push her gently away from me.

“What rumor and when did this start? Why is my…s…Why is the Verger child being considered that?” I ask her, making her look at me when I nearly say the words “ _my son”_ and walk away from her quickly only for her to grab hold me whirling me around to face her.

“Hannibal, did I hear right!!? Are you saying…Morgan Verger, is your son and how is that possible!!?”

I breathe heavily, heart pounding against my rib-cage at the words that come from own mouth and wrench free only to stumble backwards into a firm chest from behind then hands take hold of my arms, gripping them tightly making me stiffen. Shuddering slightly, I turn my face to look at Dr. Ocrates, who calmly says something to Freddie Lounds to make her move on.

* * *

_“Just…let me go. Just…don’t.”_

I hear myself pleading, followed by him leading me further into the wooded part of the Baltimore Park where the treeline gets more dense and difficult to see what is further up ahead then he places me up against a large oak tree – which is twisted into a helix shape like one’s DNA and many branches spreading outwards above my head in the canopy.

“Stop that, Hannibal. If I was going to kill you, I wouldn’t… He begins to say, only to grab my clenched fist when go to punch him in the larynx and pushing it back – still gripping it – brings it up above my head pinning it to tree’s bark. “Really, it was good punch. But, I had more training than you.” He continues to speak.

“You…Bastard!!? Why!!!? Why have you…came back to….me!!!?” I shout at him, making him cover my mouth with his gloved hand and opening it, I bite down into hard hearing him grunt and a wince slightly appear on his features as young yobbish voices of teenagers start to fill where they are as I listen and the older man listens intently as well.

Because he is listening, I bite down more deeply only for him to shove his kneecap right between my knees slamming straight into my groin where I soon slide down slightly the tree trunk with my mouth agape at the intense wave of agony shooting through it. He had just kneed me hard and can tears pricking my eyes then the teenagers move onwards, leaving us alone as he slips away from me and takes off his leather glove to inspect his hand which I had sunk my teeth into – inspecting it.

“So, your bite is worse than the bark of that tree you lean against.” Dr. Ocrates says, grabbing hold of me and bending down to my ear soon says a word that drags me into my already crumbling **_Memory Palace._**

**_“Lamb”_ **

* * *


	14. The Journey Back onto the Path Within’s One Mind, Visiting a Friend of One’s Beloved at Port Haven Physcharity Home and Discussing with them about Being Adopted to protect them from Any Further Harm

** Hannibal’s P.O.V: **

_**Sweet William Petals –** the scent of them fills my nostrils, while some cover my nude body and fluttering my eyes open see the sun is starting to rise turning the sky above my head soft orange, yellow and red then a slithering noise across the petals, which lay all around me reminds me I must get up. _

_I shift under them, getting up noticing some of the petals begin to shift rising up and attach to my body forming a strange petaled toga to cover me then a cry above my head makes me see the **Hawk** hovering way above waiting for me. _

_I start to walk, while a gentle breeze blows the petals away and the scene soon changes to long beach spreading outwards with the waves going and back forth over the shore then come to a sight which makes me still._

_The horse lays on its side not breathing with a blood pool spreading out from beneath from its body and the weeping of the man in front of me wearing a half-torn toga then go up to him, reaching out to softly place my hand on their shoulder making them turn their head to look up at me._

_Suddenly they lunge into my chest, gripping my toga tightly with their hands and burying their face into it as I bring my hand up to cradle the back of their head sifting it through the hair to calm them._

_“Hush now…It’s alright, I’m here.” I whisper soothing their tremors and they pull their face back to look up at me – revealing it is Peter Bernardone, the young man who knows Will._

_“Help me, please?”_

(TIME SKIP)

Those words “ _Help me, please?”_ re-echoes and echoes in my mind as I drive to Port Haven Physcharity Home where last time I had visited had been with Will to visit Abigail – who know was just a fading **_Memory_** in my **_Memory Palace_** – then coming down the well-used driveway park the car in empty spot killing the engine.

I get out, closing the door behind seeing some of the people who stay in this place are in the large garden and locking the car see sitting alone on the bench is Peter Bernardone reading a book quietly then head over to him, seeing snoozing on his lap is a small ochre and snow-white rat.

He lifts his head up from his book to see, who it his and seeing it is me smiles softly trying to convince me that everything is alright – but something about it, tells me something is making him feel frightened – then sit down next to him facing him slightly and he soon turns his face to nuzzle affectionally into my chest inhaling my scent to calm him.

“Tell me? Tell what me has happened, Peter?” I whisper soothingly cupping his chin lightly making him bring his own hand up to hold it close nuzzling his face into it and clasping his fingers in mine.

“I….want you take me away from here.” He replies, while his pet rat waking up clambers into my lap and turning around and around soon settles to sleep once more, with gentle snuffling coming from the small animal.

The thought of to help him as he had asked me in my **_Memory Palace_** on the shores of the strange landscape that was being made within it comes to mind and thinking of what to say next to him then he pulls back slightly, wiping his eyes with the back of his hand.

“Sorry.”

“Peter, how…would…..you feel if I adopted you? If you came to live with me?”

He lowers his hands, looking at me with wide eyes and suddenly begins to dissociate shuddering slightly as I grab both his cheeks placing my forehead against his then taking a deep breath, begin to sing softly under my breath a lullaby I used to sing to Mischa when she was small child and he relaxes moving to bury his face into the crook of my neck.

_“I want that…very much. Even though, I do not fully know you, Dr. Lecter. I knew Will and…he helped me when there was no-one else. I wish…..he were still alive, so I could talk with him again.”_

_“I know. So, do I, Peter.”_

* * *


	15. Called to the Second Crime Scene by *“The One who Wears Guilt Within his Heart, but Does Not Show it”, Facing Someone who One had Supposedly killed during the Night of the Dragon at the Crime Scene

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> *Implies Jack.  
> Warnings – Emotional Angst alert!!!?

** Location - Safe-house near the Rolling Atlantic Ocean **

** Hannibal’s P.O.V: **

I’m busy filling in Adoption Papers for Peter Bernardone, while sitting at the round table close to the large windows in the sitting room when my mobile phone starts to vibrate on the wooden surface making me place the fountain nibbed pen down – placing the cap on it – so the ink doesn’t dry out then answer it.

_Yes._

_Hannibal, it’s me, Jack. Need you to come immediately, there’s been another murder and it looks like the one when…well you’ll see when you get here._

_Where?_

_Wolftrap, Virginia. Will’s old home._

_I’ll be right there._

_See you there._

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

** Location – Wolftrap, Virginia – Will’s Old Home **

Driving down the road to Will’s house, brings back **_Memories_** of the times I had gone to visit his home – the night when I had sent Randal Tier to kill him for revenge using Matthew Brown to kill me, to frame him and finally bringing him back from Muskrat Farm – then come up to the front of the house, see Jack is waiting for me near the porch steps.

I pull the car up, killing the engine and settling back in the driver’s seat breathe in and out softly to calm my breathing – my pounding heart against my ribcage, until it resumes its normal pace – then sighing softly, step out of the car to head over to him, after closing the car door with one hand.

I walk up to him, allowing him to step to one side and head up the porch steps into the house where ghostly image of **_Imaginary Will_** appears sitting on the disused bed just like when the real Will, had actually sat there and remember the words he had said to me.

**_"_ ** _I'm not going miss you. I'm not...going to look for you. I don't want to think about you anymore"_

The ghostly images waft away, like smoke particles being blown by the wind and the new crime scene is revealed to me – just in the same way I impaled Marissa Schur in the Hunting Lodge that had once belonged to Garret Jacob Hobbs – blood already spread out in huge pool from underneath the body as I handed a pair of blue latex gloves which I slip on.

Heading over, I tilt the head upwards to reveal the young woman’s face and look closely at hair – seeing it is still wet from a shower – then reaching for strand of hair, rub it between my fingertips soon covering the latex in black hair dye.

“Hannibal, any theories?” Jack asks me, making me straighten up and heading over to one of the covered armchairs near fireplace sit down in it clasping my hands over my chest as I cross one leg over the over.

“Give me some time, alone.” I reply, making him go to say something only to decide to head out indicating everyone else to do the same and finally alone, I lean my head backwards on the back of the chair slipping my eyes close.

The golden pendulum swings once, twice and finally a third time coming to halt as I’m pulled into the reconstruction of the Crime.

_Do you see me, Dr. Lecter?_

_This is what you made me do because…of him – that…Will Graham._

_I killed her, made her look like someone you had killed because she was rude to her own Mother. I killed her for you._

_But…you rather pay attention to….him._

_Why?_

_WHY!!!?_

I come out the reconstruction, harshly with myself falling forwards out of the armchair onto the floor on my hands and knees then kneeling back on my haunches, hear a noise which coming from upstairs which makes me lift my head up when a floorboard creaks slightly under someone’s foot.

It seems I wasn’t alone in Will’s old home.

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

An open window is all to indicate someone has come into Will’s old home – now an active Crime Scene – in the empty quest bedroom, while I stand in the center of the room then keep still, waiting for them to make the first move only instead of making a move – they speak instead.

“Dr. Lecter, do you remember that **_Night_** you will never properly discuss with anyone because you…fear it?”

“Yes. Vividly…Emotionally and….Intimately. You scarred me that **_Night,_** Francis.” I reply, still not turning as he pads up to me and when he grabs hold of me, pulling me flush back against his chest then grabs my throat forcing me to tilt my head upwards at the sametime places one hand on the back of my spine.

“I could…right now, break your spine. Sever your life, Hannibal Lecter.” He whispers, pressing inwards slightly with the hand on my spine to emphasize then continues to speak. “But, there other ways to sate the **_Great Red Dragon_** for now.”

I wrench free of him, stumbling slightly to the windowsill and try to quell the arousal between my thighs then Francis, comes up behind me and turns me to face him followed by grabbing hold of me when my legs give out from underneath me.

I try to keep my eyes open, but it is like a great weight has been placed on them and sink into unconscious state blackness coming into cover my vision like raven wings.

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

** Location - Safe-house near the Rolling Atlantic Ocean  **

A damp cloth gently dabbing my forehead makes me shift on top of the duvet cover and weakly fluttering my eyes open, tilt my head backwards when it goes to my neck gasping breathlessly before I can stop myself from doing it then it travels downwards at the sametime Francis, unbuttons my shirt one button at a time to fully reveal my chest to him.

He brushes across my nipples, coating them in fine sheen of water and moving it away bends his head down flicking his tongue over the tips of both of them making me arch slightly then slips one hand around to rest his hand on my spine, splaying in certain way and lips trail downwards caressing the scars I have attained.

My hands fist into the duvet cover – unclenching and clenching tightly the fabric – then his tongue licks the outline of the half **_Joker’s Grin_** leading to his scar which he kisses reverently with his warm, moist lips. He travels back up my chest, rolling us so I’m on top of him and pulls me down for a kiss – which I feel myself responding to knowing it is lust rising within me at the sametime guilt I’m betraying Will by doing this is rising as well.

Francis, changes position each time deepening the kiss and fully slipping my shirt off my shoulders so they hang around my elbows then pushing me up, starts to unbutton suit trousers – after pulling the belt off to drop onto the floor – pulling the zip down followed by placing his fingers on the seam of my boxers to slip them down.

He flicks his gaze up to me as he pulls me back down and gulping heavily rest my forehead against his then a thump of my suit trousers, my boxers soon following brings my out of the haze I’m in then scrambling off the bed stumbling backwards shaking my head from side to side.

Francis, looks at me and slips off the bed coming up towards me until my back hits the glass window then he whirls me around so my back is against his chest at the sametime I arch my back slightly giving a hitched gasp when he cups me from behind with lube coated fingers pressing inwards.

“Don’t fight it, Hannibal. Let yourself go…to me.” He whispers, breath hot against my neck and crooks his fingers in a certain way, I place both my hands on the glass to stabilize myself.

He begins to slide them in and out, watching every expression I make – every hitched breathless gasp, the way my hips back and forth into his hand and finally, he moves his hand away when I’m approaching climax – then shoves his hips forwards, cupping my chin to turn my face at the sametime so I look at him.

Lips cover mine, devouring my mouth and a tongue probes within to entwine with my own at the sametime his hands slide down my sides to hold my hips then he begins to undulate his hips back and forth – up and down, sliding himself in and out of me at a certain pace.

(TIME SKIP)

It’s Lust.

Unattainable lust between us, while Francis jolts my body up and down making me ride him in such way on his lap, I push him down covering his eyes with both my hands so he doesn’t look at me then find my body betraying me, my hips moving up and down chasing the heat of the climax that is starting to rise within me.

Moving my hands away, I grab hold of the duvet cover for support fisting my hands into the fabric every inch of my body then a final thrust within me, causes me to tense above him with my thighs clenching around his waist shuddering heavily with a cry echoing in the silence of the bedroom.

I soon collapse in his arms, feeling him roll me onto my back and get more over me then my body tenses again through a second orgasm as he pulls back to look down at me as I do the same to him – seeing the sight of his face and Will’s face blurring.

I turn my face to one side, feeling him stiffen and rush of warmth fill me then he rolls me to one side keeping my thigh all over his waist and holding me close to him as the aftershocks of the orgasm continue to go through me then slump in his arms, sweat that had covered my body running down it in droplets – like rain going down the window – and my chest rising and falling with each labored breath I take.

“Tell me, how you feel?” Francis asks me, stroking a strand of slightly damp hair from forehead and moving away lay on my back then answer him.

“This….wasn‘t meant to happen between us. This wasn’t meant to happen.” I reply, rolling to lay with my back to him. “I need…you to leave now.”

His hand touches my hip, rubbing circles in it to soothe me then bends his lips down to my ear, inhaling deeply followed by something wet plip onto my cheek.

_“I’ll leave. But you should know, if you continue doing what you’re doing then be prepared for some **Truth’s** about you…your family, Dr. Ocrates and your **Beloved** coming to light. I only did this because…that **Night,** the **Dragon** wanted you and yet your **Ravenstag** laid his claim on you.”_

_“You fall in love with me?”_

_“Yes.”_

* * *


	16. Getting back onto the Path of One’s Beloved’s Inferno Path as Events which Begin to happen when Truths come out to Light, The First Interview with “The Iron Maiden” and A Night-time Visit from the “Old Serpent” and Asking them to Tell them the Truth

** Hannibal’s P.O.V: **

The bodies of the victims from “ ** _La Morte’s Shadow”_** lay on two separate morgue tables when I come into the large Morgue area remembering the last time I had been in here it been to see the fake dead body of Freddie Lounds which Will and Jack had used to lure me in.

The young woman’s body has been washed, fingernails checked for any DNA and other particles that may reveal who this **_“Fledging Killer”_** is and why they were eerily copying my old Crimes then look at the over body of the one from the field Kabuki then go over to the table where the notes from both bodies are laying.

I place them side by side to look at the handwriting, studying the loops and swirls – the way the hand has written it – then getting a sheet of paper, take out the fountain pen writing out the words on the two sheets of paper and compare my sample of handwriting to them.

“The same. Same penmanship like yours.” Jack says, behind me and gulping down saliva stand up straight then wrap my arms around myself, gripping them tightly with both hands.

“Jack, whatever happens over the next few days, mouths or even years you have to understand any information that comes to light…..about me or even my family. Ignore it, please?” I say, going to walk away when suddenly he grabs my arm tightly with his own.

“Ignore it!!!? Ignore!!!?” He begins to start, soon turning me to face him and gripping both my arms slams me up against the glass windows causing them to vibrate. “How can I ignore what is happening. How can I ignore, you lied to me. I know he’s alive, Hannibal. I know Will is alive.”

I lift my head up to look at him, with widened eyes at the fact he has known all this time and move away from him when he lets go my arms walking out into the long corridor where I come to stop as Alana appears stepping forwards in front of me.

“Hannibal, can we talk in private?” She asks me, making me nod silently in reply and she indicates for me to follow her.

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“ _Do you remember the last time you were here, Hannibal in this room?”_

_“Yes.”_

_“Will you answer my questions now?”_

_“I…have no choice. You would find out later or sooner.”_

Were in my old working office, with the black leather chairs uncovered as she sits from across me in one of them and I, in the other chair then a poem starts to fill my head.

_Tyger Tyger. Burning bright_

_In the forest of the night._

_What immortal hand or eye_

_Could frame thy fearful symmetry_

“How would you like me to begin?” I ask her, making her lower the glass of wine down onto the small side table and indicates for me to start telling her right from the beginning. “It all started in my birthplace - _Aukstaitija, Lithuania –_ where…..”

(TIME SKIP)

_“….Mischa, loved the color purple. And during the middle of the day, Mischa’s nurse carried the beaten copper tub into the kitchen garden to warm the bathwater in the sun. I remember her sitting there among the gleaming tub, among the vegetables in the warm sun with….white cabbage butterflies flying around her.”_

_“Anything else?”_

_“Her placing her hands flat on my cheeks and laughing in my face. She was so young, so innocent and so full of life. That is all for now. I need to go.”_

Alana, lifts her head from writing notes down into the file notepad in her lap as I stand up, taking the woolen coat off the back of the chair to slip it on then notice she is looking at me – or more particularly the coat.

“Yes, it’s is. It belonged to him.” I reply, heading to the door and wonder if I should ask her about little Morgan – mine and Will’s little one – then opening the door step out into the main foyer as she closes the door.

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Music softly plays, while I read once more over the adoption papers for Peter Bernardone at the sametime sipping the glass of blood orange and passion fruit then a shadow covers the light coming from the soft lamp light followed by a chair being pulled back.

“Adoption? Your feeling paternal, Hannibal?” Dr. Ocrates asks me, pouring himself a glass of the blood orange and passion fruit then getting out the chair, pick up the papers and place them back in the envelope.

“Are you hungry? I’m going to make some asparagus, pea and mint risotto for dinner.” I ask him, not answering his question and head into kitchen to make the meal.

“I’ll give you some help.” He replies, getting up and coming up to me, placing his hand on my shoulder to squeeze it lightly. “I’ll be sous chef, shall I?”

(TIME SKIP)

“Gently. Let me help you.” Dr. Ocrates says, taking hold of my hand as blood starts to plip onto the kitchen floor and helps me over to where the medical kit is, calmly opening it to get out some alcoholic wipes.

He opens one of the packets, unfolding the alcoholic wipe and holding my hand places it over the cut causing me to wince with slight hiss coming through my teeth at the harsh sting then allow him to wrap a bandage around the cut in the palm of my hand and taking a deep breath decide to ask him.

“I…want the truth. Who are you really? Why are you like this to me?” I ask, making him still in doing what he is doing to my hand and moves his hand to stroke a strand of hair from my forehead then gives a weak smile.

“You’re so like your mother. She loved you very deeply – your sister and yourself. But I was only a butler and you were considered by the other servants frightening when you were a child. I remember when she gave birth to you, brought you into the world and….”

He stops talking, looking at me with moistened eyes and continues to speak, causing me to step away shaking my head side to side, trying to deny what he saying to me then whimpering slide down the kitchen wall, starting to cry heavily as he comes up to me and pulls me into a hug as I bury my face into his chest.

“I’m sorry. So, sorry……”


	17. Journey back into One’s Crumbling Memory Palace, The Quiet of the Stream and Remembering as One Sketches Quietly about what the “Old Serpent” Had Told One the Night and Meeting One’s Beloved at the Same Stream

** Location - Safe-house near the Rolling Atlantic Ocean **

****

“ _I’m so sorry. So, sorry…for what happens next. **Lamb**.”_

_Those words echo and re-echo around the underground Temple of the God Vulcan, feeling my ears as I struggle to breathe, the clawed hand tightening around my throat as “ **The Ochre Wendigo”** leans over my body covered by the **Sweet William** toga and digs its other clawed hand into the wound in my chest slipping between my ribs upwards until I’m shuddering heavily. _

_My head tilting backwards, feeling it calmly slip my heart out from the wound still beating and allows me to fall backwards among the large bed of Oleander, Narcissus and Deadly Nightshade petals which explode upwards into the air along with the pool of water from the circular shallow pool._

_My head lolls to one side in the water, half-submerged and see the creature **“The Ravenstag”** come towards the **“The Wendigo”** who calmly holding my heart in both hands as flames appear starting to burn it as unknown voice whispers in my ear._

_“ **No-one can be fully aware of another human being unless we love them. By that love, we see potential in our beloved. Through that love, we allow our beloved to see their potential.**_

**_Expressing that love, our beloved’s potential comes true.”_ **

_Then clawed hands reach underneath my body pulling me out of the water, cradling me like a newborn child and one clawed hand turns my face into its chest then my eyes slip close, while I feel myself being gently carried away softly in the arms of the creature – my creature._

_The both of us soon being swallowed up the darkness of the arch, which is blocked by vines growing upwards forming a shape within them of a Chinese dragon with its tail twisting, while it swallows a man._

_\-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------_

** Location – Stream near Will’s Old Home  **

The river just near Will’s house, shimmers in the sunlight when I step out of the treeline and stand there listening to the stream running through the small boulders, pebbles and silt then heading over to large weeping willow, sitting down against it unbutton the white crème waistcoat.

Slipping the satchel off, I take out the sketchpad and pencils then opening the sketchpad to a fresh sheet, calmly begin to sketch what is in front of me knowing that some point I will have to catch “ ** _La Morte’s Shadow_** ” before… _No, I shouldn’t be thinking about that piece of information that Dr. Ocrates told me that night. I should be more concerned about…the other information he told me._

Everything he had said to me that night, the truth which had hurt and affected me deeply then pausing in the sketching, lift my head up when I sense only one person who makes my heart-rate speed up slightly and turning my face, smile up at him.

“Hello, Will.” I say, making him give a small “ _Hmm_ ” and place his tackle box next to me then head down to wade into the stream as I go back to sketching quietly, adding him to the scene of it – the arc of the silver fishing line glinting in the sunlight, the way he is standing and the river flowing past him.

Maybe he has seen by looking at me, I laid with someone else and will not talk to me because of it.

Does he know the “ ** _Great Red Dragon”_** is alive? Does he know that Francis Dolerhyde is the one, I had laid with or more accurately to his mind allowed to fuck me?

“Are we going to talk about it? Don’t think I don’t know what has happened between you and….Francis Dolerhyde.”

Lifting my head, I place the sketching to one side and look at him, to ascertain his body language to tell whether he is angry at me for what had happened then seeing there is no point in lying to him.

“It….just happened between us. But I…felt like I was betraying you, while it happened.” I reply, picking up the sketching pad to finish of the drawing and he resumes waiting for the fish to tug on the line.

“Betrayal is something akin to Love. There is the Betrayed and the Betrayer.” He says, quoting Bedelia when she said those words to me in the Florentine Apartment and getting up, I step closer to the bank then bending down slightly, unlace my shoes followed by placing them to one side.

Stepping into the stream, I wade behind him and slipping my arms around his waist, hold him close to me then he half turns, placing the fishing rod in my hand.

“Will, I….never done this before.” I admit to him, making him slip around to go behind me and soon feel his arms wrap around me from behind then he places his hands over mine, starting to move them.

“I’m not angry with you. Things like sleeping with someone else happen, Hannibal.” He says, while I go to say something back only for him to place a finger to my lips “ _Shhing_ ” me and continue to speak. “Hush, don’t speak. Concentrate on the rod, Hannibal.”

Quietly, I allow him to move my hands like it is almost a dance between us and when the line goes taught, he helps me reel in the fish on the other end attached to the hook.

The silver scales of it glinting in the sunlight, along with the droplets of water flying in the air.

* * *


	18. Embrace in One’s Beloved Arms Once More, A *Slimy Pig is slaughtered and Disposed of and *“Gentle One” is taken Away from the Place to Save them from Harm

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> *Tall golden structure – Trying to figure out from the first episode of Season 3 what it is. It is the Eiffel Tower or another Tower in Florence, Italy.
> 
> * Gentle One – Refers to Peter Bernardone

** Location - Safe-house near the Rolling Atlantic Ocean **

** Hannibal’s P.O.V: **

The knife gleams in the dimmed kitchen life, making me take a deep breath as I take out of the knife block and placing the live fish place it on the chopping then Will, comes into the kitchen seeing how I’m standing there with fish on the chopping board wriggling in death throes.

He comes over, slipping behind me and places his hand over the one holding the knife then grabs hold of me, when my legs choose to give out on me and lowers me to the polished floor.

Turning my face, I go to say something when the flopping fish in its final death throe chooses to land right in my lap on top of my groin making us both soon laugh at it then he hauls me up, placing the fish back on the chopping board along with the knife.

“Uhh…let’s eat in the town. There is sushi restaurant just opened that I like to try or we could just go to bed, if you want?” He asks me, while I do feel tired and taking hold of his hand leading him out the kitchen – after washing my hands of the fish smell – through the sitting room into the bedroom where calmly he takes hold of me soon kissing me breathlessly.

Both of us, change position each-time to deepen it and the desire to make love between us rising, I begin to peel of his clothes at the sametime he does the same to me feeling him push me backwards until he pushes me down onto the bed covers.

\-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The morning sun filters through a gap in the curtains of the bedroom, while Will allows me to cradle the back of his head as I gently push my hips forwards feeling my eyelids flutter slightly with him wrapping his legs around me, when I finally become fully sheathed within him then wetting my lips, start to gently and slowly undulate my hips back and forth into his.

Each rise.

Each fall.

The way both of us move in sync with each-other.

His hands come up, rolling us so he is straddling me and placing his hands on my chest then begins to lift his hips up and down, making me tilt my head backwards on the pillow too gasp breathlessly at the feeling of slipping in and out of him with each thrust.

Sweat that is coating both run downs them like rain droplets, followed by me spreading my legs more wider apart starting to grunt heavily with the effort then rise up to hold him close to me, resting my forehead against his, feeling him sift his hand through my hair and the other hold my shoulder.

“Are you close, Hannibal?” He pants heavily in my ear, clenching his thighs in such a way it makes me arch slightly with tremors running my thighs and snarling flip him onto his back getting over him.

I look down at him, increasing my thrusts within him and when the pressure finally hits, give a breathless moan “ _Will”_ of his name with my back arching slightly then muscles tensing, release slowly into him it feels euphoric and….one could say heavenly.

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

** Location - Port Haven Physcharity Home **

*Dr. Druden Hall – is the most unpleasant man of the Physcharity Department for Port Haven, that I ever met – and takes the Adoption forms in the envelope to just place it down on his desk like it was nothing to him then sits down in the chair, looking at me as I calmly sit in the visitor’s chair.

“I heard of you, Dr. Hannibal….Actually, No…Correct myself. Former Dr. Hannibal Lecter, ever since you lost your practice by being find out to…have **_problems.”_** He says, hissing out that word as I manage to resist the urge to get up and grab his flabby neck with one hand at the sametime stabbing the neat ornate letter opening into the side of his jugular so bleeds to death on his horrible study ornate cheap tacky carpet.

“And what… ** _problems,_** would that be…Dr. Druden Hall?” I ask him, hissing the word back at him and the man opens a draw getting out remote then clicking a button at the wall, allows it to reveal a screen which flicks on to reveal the beginning of video showing me coming out of my house the night I had killed Abigail because I had felt so betrayed by Will for deceiving me and presses play restarting it from the beginning.

_I feel empty inside, like my heart has been shattered into million pieces as Will, slumps against the fridge holding his hand to wound I have just made with the curved knife and gulping weakly find myself speaking before I even think of why I’m just causing the both of us more pain. More hurt._

_“I let you in. I let you know me. See me.”_

_His eyes – sea blue-green looking straight into mine spearing me with their gaze to hurt me, making me feel ashamed for what I just did to him and how I held him in my embrace. Hiding the curved knife._

_“My freedom then. You would take that from me? Confine me to prison cell.”_

_“No, no...”_

_Did you believe you could change me, the way I’ve changed you?”_

_He lifts his head up to look at me, body still shuddering through the throes of trying to survive losing blood which is starting to spread across the polished floor and answers me with such reply it causes my heart to skip a double beat at it._

_“I already did.”_

_I say other things, anything to change or even not remember what he had just said._

_“I gave you a rare gift. But you didn’t want it, Will.”_

_“Didn’t I?”_

_Also hearing my voice disembodied when I finally call Abigail over as I hold my free hand out to her and she comes up to me, while I soon pull her flush against me then holding the collar of her coat with one hand, bring the curved knife up to her pale throat placing the tip right up against the same scar where her Father had cut her and keeping my face neutral as I look at Will, who is begging me not to do it sever her throat in one fluid motion._

_Lowering her body to ground, I allow her to fall on her back making Will look at me in shock, horror and anguish written on his face and stepping close to him lean down so were eye level, feeling so weak and numb within myself._

_“Put your head back and wade quietly into the stream. Forget about all of this.”_

_Walking away from him, I pass the wine cellar with Jack within and placing my hand on the door lightly whisper the words to him “I’m sorry, Jack. Sorry for everything.” Then head down the corridor into the foyer and soon step out onto the porch into the rain tilting my head backwards as I bring one hand up to drag down my face. Alana, sweet innocent if she had been blind towards me lays on the front porch – her spine shattered by the fall and yet still alive – with Will’s coat over her, which makes me lean down taking it off her shivering body and listen to her gaping trying to form words to say to me._

_Nothing comes out._

_Stepping onto the main pavement, when coming out the gate I slip Will’s coat on pulling it tight around my body and start to walk down the road towards somewhere far away from where I have left three people – but only one has broken my heart with **betrayal.**_

The video ends, fading to black and my whole body feels numb at the fact that someone had been paid either by this slimy pig to install hidden cameras in my house without my knowledge then another video starts this time showing where I had been in Florence after leaving Will behind in Baltimore, Maryland.

_A key inserted into a lock, turns and the engine of the motorbike powers to life with the pistons moving up and down within its innards then getting onto the bike, the person in black leather starts the engine – kicking it to life._

_They speed down the road, weaving to and through the cars, tightening black leather clad gloves on the handles increasing the throttle of the sleek motorbike, while in the far distance a *tall golden structure shines a light from it – like a lighthouse, spreading it’s light into the dark so ships can see where they are going._

_Down a hill on a curving road, passing tall classical buildings and continuing to weave through the late night-time traffic to the destination then passing statues hiding in the street light shadows and continuing on, passing a grand pillar façade of white polished stone proud in the night-light as the bike speeds to its destination._

_Multiple arches leading forward as the bike slows down to park as the driver drops his foot down to the wet surface of the road. Hands reach upwards to remove the black helmet. The biker looks upwards towards the building. Observing. Thinking._

**_Prey_ ** _. Weak, minded and no idea there will soon be a **Hunter** among them. _

_Coming to the open doorway, where within the large ornate function suite, I see many people chatting, drinking and milling slowly around the step within, walking among them taking a champagne flute from one of the tray’s being held by a waiter._

_Looking around, I do not see the intended **Prey** just yet. Meaning they must be in the other function suite next door and opportunity arises when a one of the staff opens a glass golden glided door with diamond lattice shapes on it._

_I step into the other room, seeing it is fuller of **Prey,** mingling among themselves and begin to walk among them slipping silently among them as I soon spot my intended **Prey.**_

_Hidden in the back, talking to small group of people who listening and nodding their heads when he says something to them. Though I’m too far away to hear it._

_It is the sametime, I’m watching them, I sense I’m being watched by someone else in the room and lowering my head turn my gaze to see a young man – no doubt 37 years old – slicked back hair, wearing a scarf around his neck and holding two champagne flutes._

_“Anthony Dimmond.”_

_“Boris Yorkoff.”_

“Stop, that’s enough.” I say, getting up out the chair and going over to him at the sametime another video – the final one – starts to play, making me tense when I hear Will speaking on it and turning my head see it is in Bedelia’s Psychiatric Office.

_“Is Hannibal in….love with me?”_

_“Could he feel a daily stab of hunger for you and find nourishment at the very sight of you. Yes.”_

_“Why won’t he tell me himself?”_

_“I think you already know the answer to that, Mr. Graham.”_

_“Because he wants me to have nothing in my life, that ins’t him. He wants to be with me. He wants…me to embrace a part of myself I’m trying so hard to ignore within me. He wants me….to love him back.”_

_“You said I’m Bluebeard’s Wife. What does that make you?”_

_“I don’t…..know. What does the word….. **Myilamis** mean?”_

_“Hmm, I’m surprised he used that word to describe you. It means in his birth language **Beloved.** You are his **Beloved.** The wounded **Beloved,** who ate his burning heart when you betrayed him.”_

_“Can…I save myself?”_

_“Can you save yourself? I say, can you save this Hannibal you know now or will **Fate** intervene again like before?”_

_“Only God knows the answer to that.”_

_“Hannibal doesn’t believe in God.”_

_“No, he doesn’t. And neither do I have any belief.”_

The conservation finishes, screen fading to black and the wooden panel coming back up to cover it as Dr. Druden Hall, puts the remote back into the drawer of his desk then picks the envelope with the Adoption Papers for Peter, opening them to start looking at them.

“I will not sign these. And you have to understand, I was sent those videos by anonymous source and told through a letter to show them to you. The final video it….well it definitely highlights your…pro!!?” He begins to say, only to never finish the sentence as I stab the ornate letter opener into the side of his jugular and pressing it more deeply in feel some blood spurt onto my cheek.

I don’t flinch at this. His eyes look at me, widened in horror, shock and surprise at the sametime I stab the fountain pen nib into the hollow of his throat piercing the flesh of it at the sametime blood lightly spurts onto his desk in fine mist of crimson petals.

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Peter, is in the garden sitting on the same bench where I had first met him and he soon lifts his head up from the book he is reading then gets up, burying himself into my chest as I bring my hands up to hold him.

Cradling the back of his head, I sift a hand through his hair to calm him and picking up his book allow him to lead me through the wooded area of the large garden to certain spot where I see a tiny hut made of sticks, stones and other natural materials where lying within is tiny little baby hedgehog laying sleeping curled up with the tamed rat.

“Can I…bring them with me?” He asks me, wringing his hands in his jumper and smile softly at him, nodding in reply.

**(TIME SKIP)**

** Location - ** **Safe-house near the Rolling Atlantic Ocean**

I allow Peter to choose a spot in the garden to place the animal house for the hedgehog to stay nice and warm on his own. But keeping close by to him, while the tamed rat has chosen conveniently to stay in his jumper and gets up, coming to stand next to me after feeding the little one.

The spot is close to the guest bedroom, which will allow him to come out to check each time to see how it is doing, coping with its new home. He looks at me, smiling softly and steps close resting the side of his cheek against my chest.

“Thank you for…taking me away from that place.”

“That’s alright, Peter. Everyone needs a second chance in life.”

* * *


	19. Finding it Difficult to Discuss about Luring the “La Morte’s Shadow” out from the Shadows they Hide Within with “The One who Wears Guilt Within his Heart, but Does Not Show it, Giving a Lift to “*Iron Maiden’s” Wife and One’s Little One

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> *Iron Maiden – refers to Alana Bloom

** Location – Baltimore, Maryland – F.B.I. Behavioral and Science Unit Headquarters **

** Hannibal’s P.O.V: **

Jack, is sitting at his large desk busy looking over some Case file notes when I step into his office, closing the door quietly behind to mute out the filtering sound of people in the corridor and walk up to one of the visitors chair sitting down in it.

“I feel like I’m going to put a bell on you, so I know it’s you, Hannibal.” He says, not lifting his head from the papers he holds in his hands and I give a soft smile at this joke, followed by getting out the coffee flask from the knapsack I’ve brought with me.

“Jack, there is something we need to discuss.” I say, pouring myself some coffee and he lowers the papers down onto his desk, lifting his head to look at me.

“If I remember last time, luring out the killer didn’t work. You of course being the killer at the time.” He says, forcing me to cough harshly when I take a sip of the hot coffee feeling it burn my throat slightly and sighing place the cup down on the desk.

“That was the past. This is the Present. If this “ ** _Fledging Killer_** ” continues Jack, more victims appear than you know what will happen.” I say, sitting back to cross one leg over the other and remembering the time when Will, had been sitting in the empty seat next to me.

_The board, has a map pinned up on it showing the victims of this killer that Jack Crawford was hunting for is shows me this other serial killer had been choosing females that meant something to him._

_“How many victims?”_

_Jack replies to this, followed by the young man I believe is called Will Graham saying the word “Tasteless” in response to a Tattlecrime article that had been written by Freddie Lounds._

Coming out of the memory, I open my mouth to speak when I find no words come out. Just a click in the throat, forcing me to decide it is time I left if there were no point in discussing with luring this killer out of the shadows then uncrossing my legs place the coffee flask away in the knapsack.

Getting out the chair, I head to the door when Jack stops me by saying something just as I place my hand on the door handle, making me turn my face to look back at him.

_“Before you go, Hannibal. Did you know a bar Owner called Drukov and Dr. Druden Hall?”_

_“No. Why?”_

_“Just asking that’s all._

_Though, are you pretty sure you don’t know them.”_

_“Utterly sure, Jack. I would remember if I did.”_

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

** Location -  ** ** Levestien Private School – Maryland, Virginia  **

Margo Verger, is coming out of the school gates when I step out of my car which I’ve parked across from them with little Morgan, holding her hand and chatting excitingly about his day at school then his gaze soon lands on me, making me softly smile when he points and smiles soon pulling her over across the road to me.

“Hey, wee one.” I say, feeling him soon hug me around the legs and looking down at him bring a hand up to ruffle his hair affectionally and pulls back slightly to look up at me. “Margo, would you like a lift?” I ask her, seeing she is looking around like she doesn’t want to hang around this area for too long.

_What she so afraid of? She acting skittish like when a doe senses danger and can’t tell where it is coming from?_

_Could someone be watching her? Or me for that matter?_

“If you don’t mind. My wife, is busy…sorting out business deals at the moment and doesn’t have time to collect me and Morgan.” She replies, heading around my car and getting in the passenger seat while I open the back passenger door for the little one – my son – handing him his school bag which he takes off me, only to frown when I notice he is looking beyond me at something.

“What’s wrong?” I ask him, quietly turning my face to look at what he is looking at and stand up straight, seeing standing near his own car, is one of the jury members from when I had been in Court – Paul Krendler.

His gaze, makes me stand up straighter lowering my face to stare at him showing I will not be intimidated by being watched in such a callous way and he gives a smirk, taking the cigarette out his mouth turning his face to one side to blow smoke up into the cold, misty air allowing it to wisp and spread outwards until dissipating. He drops it to the ground, crushing it with the heel of his leather black shoe.

He walks over to me. Hunter’s gait, slow and methodical meaning he was planning something or he had planned something and now was deciding to execute it then stops right in front of me, filling my nostrils with the acrid scent of course tobacco cigarette smoke and cheap cologne.

“Well, well. Didn’t expect to see you in this part of town, Dr. Lecter. Picking up **_family_** are we?” He asks me, saying that bit almost sarcastically and resist the urge to snarl at this man, while opening the driver’s door to get in.

“I could almost say the same thing, Krendler. Though, if you excuse me, I have a more pressing matter at hand somewhere else than wasting my time talking to you.” I reply, making him flick his gaze to little Morgan – who hunkers down into the seat trying to hide himself – and Margo, who is keeping her face turned to one side.

“Sure you do.” He says, causing me to close the driver’s door and close it, stepping soon close to him at the sametime he looks at me still smirking that smug grin – that one day I will wipe of his face – and bends down to whisper quietly enough in my ear son only I can hear, something which makes me quickly flinch away from him.

“ _Plus, I bet you look good…with your legs spread wide, flushed and wanton with debauched look to you as you’re pounded into by a large, thick cock. Who knew…Dr. Hannibal Lecter, would enjoy it and I’ve seen…the video showing you being taken. You’re a little cock-slut ain’t you, sweetcheeks?”_

He pulls back, still smirking at managing to have shaken me with the information and walks off leaving me alone standing next to my car willing my heart to stop thudding against my rib-cage.

Paul Krendler, had now bumped his way up my list of people to get rid to the very top and getting into the car, start the engine then pull out from where I parked, not hanging around any longer for him to say anything else.

* * *


	20. Spending Time with “Gentle One” and one’s Little One in the Garden of the Safe-house, A Heated Interview with the “Iron Maiden” with Memories of the Past Coming back in the Process and Another Letter from One’s Beloved

** Location - Safe-house near the Rolling Atlantic Ocean **

_“Morgan, there is someone I like to introduce to you. This is Peter Bernardone. He is staying with me.”_

Peter, smiles softly down at my little one – who Margo had brought to see me – and bends down to say hello to him, making him take hold of my leg then looks up at me, making me smile down at him, placing a hand on the top of his head.

Seeing it is alright, he holds out his little hand to Peter and giggles softly when Peter crooks his finger in his little one then swings it gently back and forth.

This makes a small giggle echo in the air around us, followed by the three of us heading down the tiled path to the garden which Morgan, had asked me if he could have a look at and listen to him quietly talking to Peter about animals – what kind he liked and when he was older wanted to help sick, injured and disabled animals that couldn’t care for themselves or their owners couldn’t care for them – making me think maybe I should set up close to the Safehouse an Animal shelter for the foreseeable future then we finally reach the garden.

“Awww…it’s so pretty, even though it’s winter.” Morgan says, looking around with childlike glee on his face and huge smile as he soon starts to run around the large garden – exploring every nook and cranny of it.

“He prefers being here. Have you noticed, Hannibal? Not at that Verger Mansion.” Peter says, asking me the question while coming to stand next to me and for once I can agree him as my little one comes running over to hug me around the legs saying a word which makes my heart skip a beat.

 ** _“Papa…_** are we going to do the garden now?” He says, tilting his head to one side and looking up at me, seeing how tears have moistened my eyes followed by frowning up at me. “Are you crying?” He asks me, making me bend down to kiss the crown of his head and holding him close to me in a gentle hug.

**(TIME SKIP)**

Due all the Autumnal leaves, laying on the grass from the tall trees surrounding the whole of the ** _Safehouse_** garden, I allow Peter and little Morgan to do the raking as I clear away broken branches; hoeing the weeds of the tiled path and soil which feels crumbly due to the type of it then notice in the far distance, a sailing boat moving through the gentle waves of the rolling Atlantic ocean.

It is the only one, slipping through the silver blue liquid water, making white horses rise upwards and fall down again as I see a figure standing at the wheel, controlling it with just one hand and for some reason I can just tell it is Will.

Keeping an eye on me from afar. I watch just for little longer, until it disappears from sight and get back to work, placing the weeds in the weed bucket then head over to where Peter and little Morgan had raked the leaves into a large pile. It is good sized pile, making me smile at the little boy who with amazing strength jumps up into my arms causing me to fall backwards into the pile of leaves with Peter, following us as well then start to laugh softly at the all the leaves flying up around us to land around us as both them join in – both their laughter ringing clearly like little chimed glass bells.

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

****

_“Hannibal, please come in. Would you like a drink? Wine? Beer?”_

Alana asks me, when she opens the white door to my former Physcharist office as I stand up with the coat over one arm and turn to face her, walking forwards to soon step within. Many things have been changed, the Stag sculpture gone and probably sold by her then placing the warm threadbare grey coat over the back of the chair go around to calmly sit down.

“Isn’t it unethical to drink with one’s patient, Alana?” I ask her, making her close the door with firm snap and heels clicking heads over to the empty chair in front of me followed by calmly sitting down.

She reaches for the notebook on the small coffee table next to me and crossing one leg over the other then clicks her pen, opening the notebook to where we previously got up to.

“Now, we were discussing about your sister Mischa last time, Hannibal. But I want to talk about something else.” She says, making me see that whatever it is she is angry at something or at me. “What are your intentions to my… ** _Son?”_**

_You’re Son!!!?_

The fact she has audacity to say that, when she all of sudden had stopped caring for little Morgan and had started to treat Margo, in certain which meant the woman of the Verger Line I had once known was afraid of her Wife then getting up, out the seat head over to the window to stand there looking out at the street remembering another time when Will had been in my place – standing here looking out at the night, when he discovered the truth about Abigail killing Nicholas Boyle.

_“Do I need to call my lawyer now, Will?_

_Will turns his gaze to look at me at this question and stepping towards him, place my hand on his shoulder squeezing it lightly as he turns to look out the window after I said the words._

_You have to understand….were her Father’s now. Would you deny…..this orphaned girl that chance to have what she really needs at this moment? A family.”_

_I slip away, leaving him alone to complement what had just transpired feeling I want to go back and embrace from behind. Hold him in the comfort of my arms, feeling him lean back against me and relax in my presence._

I come out of the memory, seeing Alana has been watching and waiting for me to answer her intimidating question then turning to face lean against the windowsill, placing both hands on it.

“No intentions, Alana. The little one is interested in getting to know me and me him. I cannot kill anymore, due to my injuries still healing and nor do I plan on creating a **_Prodigy_** at all.” I answer her, wrapping my arms around myself and looking straight at her – into those now fiery eyes, which look at me with such venom.

**_She should of stayed blind, shouldn’t she, Hannibal. What she planning though? She drugged little Morgan to keep him docile and in her control._ **

**_Imaginary Will_** , after all this time whispers within the confines of my **_Memory Palace_** and slip down to sit down on the floor moving my hands to caress the ring on my ring finger then laying my head to one side, against the wall remember another memory of Will.

_Sitting close to the fireplace, I look at Will who is busy sipping a tumbler of whisky in the chair he has brought close to my desk and staring at crackling fire in the heart of the fireplace then know we have to discuss it._

_“Tell me…have you ever considered family? Were you ever a Father, Hannibal?” He asks me, making me remember Mischa and how I cared for her more than anything._

_“No. I never had children. I had a sister.” I reply, feeling tears brim my eyes and know that I won’t be able to start once the memories of her Death come flooding back._

_“What was her name?” He asks me, placing the whisky tumbler on my desk and shuddering slightly take a sip to calm my nerves._

_“Her name…was Mischa. She was my charge and the most innocent ever little one. She couldn’t pronounce my name…so called me Hanniebae.” I reply, turning my face away to allow for the tears to run down my cheeks at her screaming at me, begging to be saved and the large barn door slamming shut dousing me in darkness._

_“You said had?” He asks me, causing me to get a hander-kerchief to wipe my eyes clear of the tears and answer him, with a broken voice._

_“She’s dead. Please, Will…no more questions about it. It is painful to remember.”_

_Both of say no more after this and just continue to sit in silence, listening to the fire crackling as snow swirls and dances outside the large windows of my office._

_Calmness. Peacefulness. Two hearts beating within two chest’s and two people conjoined by the events that have shaped them._

_Conjoined._

_Melded like black inky smoke wafting in the cold crisp air, swirling and twisting like it is alive._

_\--------------------------------------------------------_ \-----------------------------------------------

** Location - Safe-house near the Rolling Atlantic Ocean **

A letter is on the side table, next to the front door when I step inside to the warm interior of my home and placing the Will’s former threadbare coat on the coat hanger, pick up recognizing my **_Beloved’s_** handwriting then heading to the main sitting room, see Peter is in one of the armchair’s reading a book and lifts his head from it, giving a gentle smile to me.

“Would you like something to eat?” I ask him, going over to see what he is reading and see it is “ _Great Expectations by Charles Dickens_ ” and in his lap on the blanket he has over his legs to keep warm, our the little hedgehog and the rat curled up asleep.

“That would…be nice.” He says, agreeing to having something eat and accepting this allow him to get back to reading the book, heading into the kitchen where switching on the light I place the letter down near the fruit bowl.

I decide to make **_Asian prawn and chantenay noodle soap_** and begin to get out the ingredients I need – the shiitake mushrooms and coriander from the garden along with the rest – then begin to set preparing the meal, peeling and slicing the garlic cloves, peeling and grating the ginger and go to continue when I sense a presence making me down my face to look at the open kitchen glass doors which lead out onto the Herb and Vegetable garden.4

Dr. Ocrates, looking casual in the suit he wears steps forwards, after slipping the glass door he had opened silently shut behind him and comes up to stand next to me, leaning against the counter. His eyes watching the way, I’m handling the knife carefully so I don’t end up cutting myself by accident and he reaches into the inside of his jacket to pull out a bottle of **_Vtis Nostra Pinot Noir Rose, Veneto (2017)_** from Italy, placing it on the kitchen counter.

“Please, stay in here…when I serve this. I….don’t want you frightening Peter.” I say, reaching up into one of the cupboards to get out the rapeseed oil and switching the cooker, turn a ring on as he looks past me.

I turn to see what he is looking at, seeing Peter is standing there and go over to him as he places his arms on my chest for stabilizing himself because he is nearly dissociating again then flicks his gaze to me, while I bring my hand to cradle the back of his head to sift through his hair to calm him as he continues to watch the older, more experienced **_Hunter_** or **_Predator_** to both our minds.

“Why don’t you two, go and sit down at the table. I’ll bring dinner through.” Dr. Ocrates says, causing Peter to flick his gaze to me and letting go of him pick up the bottle reaching also for three wine glasses and some cutlery.

I head back over, taking Peter with me out of the kitchen and into the sitting room where he takes the wine glasses of me, setting them down on the table with me doing the cutlery then the smell of the noodle soap begins to waft through from the open kitchen door, while he goes to the drink decanter opening the drawers to look for the corkscrew to open the wine bottle. I go over to him, seeing how he is trembling slightly and cradling the back of his head rest my forehead against his softly singing the lullaby I used to sing Mischa to him again making him step close to embrace me in a gentle hug seeking comfort in it.

“He’s scares me. I see…his eyes and…they remind of….you know who. God, I wished I had killed him – Clark Ingram - then…I wouldn’t be this way.” He whispers to me, making me bring my hands up to cradle his cheeks rubbing away the tears that are forming in his eyes.

“Peter, look at me? I said…look at me? I’m not going to let any harm come do you understand me?” I ask him, making him give “ _Uhh-uhh_ ” and look into those gentle eyes of his. “Were family – me, you and…Little Morgan.” Making him blink at me then blushes softly, allowing me to hand him a handkerchief.

**(TIME SKIP)**

After eating the prepared meal, clearing away the dishes and cutlery, I now stand near the large glass window staring out on the same spot where when it had been a courtyard me and Will, had fought Francis Dolerhyde then fast-forwarding when Francis had me up against the glass then remember the letter in the kitchen.

Heading back through, I see it is still on the kitchen counter and pouring myself glass of the **_Vtis Nostra Pinot Noir Rose, Veneto (2017)_** wine, take them both with me into the main sitting room heading over to sit down on the piano stool.

Opening it up, I begin to read his words he has written to me and bringing the glass of wine up to inhale it’s scent then take a sip of it, swallowing it down with my eyes slipping close as I tilt my head backwards towards the heavens.

_Dear, Hannibal._

_Do the Lambs still scream, within your own mind?_

_I want to do something for me. Close your eyes, calm your heart-rate and delve deeply into the recesses of your **Memory Palace.**_

_Delve deeply my…Wendigo…delve like your diving off the eroding bluff outside close to the garden and imagine this time, going deep underwater._

_Deep to swim to the **Lair of Withheld Memories**._

_There the answers you seek will be answered by the **Oracle of Wisdom, Harmony and Peace or the Shrouded Lady of Fulina**_

_\------------------------------------------------------------_

_The howling winds, whips my braided hair about and the **Sweet William** toga that I wear while I stand on the edge of the eroding bluff looking down into the dark crimson waters pounding back and forth crashing over the jagged tooth’s of rocks sticking out of the boiling, heaving mass of white froth and crimson._

_Behind me in the far distance, I can hear the swords clashing, men screaming and fire illuminating the back of the treeline of the trees surrounded the area I’m in then go to turn my face to look back, but voice hisses through the air stopping me from doing so._

**_No. Do not look. Do not see, what is transpiring beyond you in the far distance only look at what is ahead of you. Look ahead to the rising sun across the horizon, Hannibal._ **

**_Imaginary Will,_ ** _whispers – breath soft and gentle against my cheek and crossing my arms over my chest take a deep inhale slipping my eyes close then turning around still keeping them closed, fall backwards into free hair just as a figure looking like Jack as Agamemnon comes stumbling out the large treeline and run over reaching out his hand to try to reach me before it is too late._

_Only for his hand to lightly brush against my braided hair and soon air is rushing by me, whipping the **Sweet William** toga about which as soon as I reach the waves begins to disintegrate the petals rising upwards to shine – gleaming in the rising sun on the horizon._

_Water engulfs me, pulling me downwards and underneath the crimson waves deep down into the darkest depths of the **Crimson Ocean.**_

**_(TIME SKIP)_ **

_I swim easily through the depths of the **Crimson Ocean,** passing remmants of old civilizations that once lived on the land which had connected my **Memory Palace** to where **Imaginary Will** stayed within the confines of it then through the mucky gloom of seafloor sediment, tall imposing statues half degraded appear and swimming up them find that the water is starting to become lower with each stroke until I can settle my feet on some stone steps leading upwards to large Temple Acropolis._

_It is tilted to one side, slopping almost into a deep wide ravine and yet, still standing. It shows Ionic, Corinthian and Doric pillars mixed together with a faded image on the double doors when I break the surface and reaching the top step feel the sea-water trickle down my nude body to join back into the lapping crimson water of the large expanse of **Ocean** spread throughout my crumbling **Memory Palace.**_

_I walk up to the doors, which swing open revealing a blackened interior with only a single light in the candle holder in front of large statue of something lurking in the shadows sitting on a throne as a figure wearing a hooded funeral shroud kneels on both knees with her back to me._

_I can’t tell who they are, because there is only one source of light and step within the Temple, footsteps echoing of the cracked polished stone floor with frescos half-painted or destroyed by years of time. The ceiling though shows image of one of Michelangelo masterpieces in its original form \\- “ **The Last Judgement”** _

_The shrouded woman begins to whisper, words seeping from her mouth like smoke seeping from volcanic vents and recognize them of a poem which Michelangelo had once written during 1546._

_So much out of herself_

_Has kind fair lady pledged_

_That I in my slow age,_

_Watching her, might become as once I was_

_But, envious fatal **Death**_

_Being at all hours lodged_

_Between my mournful and her kindly gaze,_

_I only keep ablaze_

_The little while his features are forget_

_But when evil thought_

_Comes back again to its familiar place_

_the lovely fire is quenched by his grim ice_

_I flick my gaze upwards, soon seeing what is hiding in the shadows and see it is the body of the man – their eyes of them staring deeply into mine, piercing me with their gaze and soon the screams of the **Lambs** start filling my ears with noise and clarity._

_I collapse onto my knees, covering my ears with both hands to cover hearing them screaming and when delicate hands take hold of them pulling them away from my ears, I lift my face to see the **Shrouded** woman has lifted her veil up to reveal her face._

* * *


	21. The Difference between a Hunter and a Predator, the Spilling of Blood under the Pale, Crimson Moonlight and Helped by the “Great Red Dragon” and "Old Serpent", After Everything has Finished, while One Has Become Badly Wounded from the Event

** Location – Forest near Wolftrap – Night **

** Hannibal’s P.O.V: **

The letter from Paul Krendler, left for me at my own front doorstep of the **_Safehouse_** which Peter had brought in with the normal dross of both good and bad mail – bank bills, postcode lottery and the good side, being letters from Fans of **_Il Mostro of Firenze_**.

_If you don’t won’t a huge scandal to happen, come to these coordinates at once. Who knows if you don’t come, I can sell it for a hefty price to…Freddie Lounds who has already messaged me to say she will buy it for a good price._

_Apparently it’s the footage of you…well, why don’t you come and find out…cockslut._

Coming out of the memory of reading it and ripping it up to chuck the pieces into the fire, I listen quietly to the night-life – the hoot of barn owl, followed by it gliding past silently with white wings spread outwards heading over across the snow towards the abandoned barns in the far distance.

In the darkness of the hollow of the large tree, I step out, seeing the moon is shining through the canopy of trees and bringing one hand up to the light shining down – like when I been standing in the glass prison at B.S.H.C.I when Will, had been discussing Francis Dolerhyde.

Illuminating my hand in crimson, because it is special eclipse tonight and still looking up through the branches when Paul Krendler chooses finally to come out of the shadows then stands close, looking up at where I’m looking through the canopy of trees. His acrid scent of course cigarette, hangs on him like some of kind of vile disease or poison that won’t go away no matter what you do to try and get rid of it then lowering my hand down to my side, turn to fully face him.

“You….know I didn’t expect you to come. Yet here you are…sort of reminding of a cornpone country cunt, I used to know. Had name like a bird and yet, begged in whiny voice for someone when I finally silenced by shooting a crossbow arrow in her mouth.” He says, causing me to flick out the curved Devil’s claw knife – two of them, on long and the other short – and he brings out a hunting knife from leather pouch on his belt. “Oh, did I strike a nerve, sweetcheeks? A cockslut among men. Bet you love being down on your knees for them, sucking their large cocks and degrading yourself, you disgusting faggot.”

I say nothing. My blood feels like is boiling within my veins and lunging slash across his cheek, drawing first blood and twisting slam the knife backwards into his shoulder at the sametime the action slams his body up against the trunk of the tree. I pull it out, ripping downwards with the small curved blade making blood spurt outwards then moving quickly away from him, while he grits his teeth at the bleeding wound and lunges at me, knocking me over onto the forest floor.

The Hunter’s knife gleams faintly in the moonlight, followed by me managing to move myself feeling sharp nick from the tip of it scarring my cheek and drawing blood – which beads to run down the side of my cheek – and stab into the side of his thigh, with the long curved Devil’s knife, pulling it out quickly to allow more blood to gush out.

This makes him punch me across the face, followed by stabbing down into my left shoulder and twisting it in such it makes me cry out harshly then bringing one leg up, kick him hard in the chest sending him flying off me. A sickening thud, followed by a curse from him and spitting out a gob of phlegm mixed with his own blood.

Getting up, I reach a hand up pulling his Hunter’s knife out and chuck it to him. He catches it single-handily and gripping it tightly, both of us soon begin to circle each-other - like two wolves, snarling and hackles rised with their fangs bared - then lunge at each-other, clashing below the canopy of illuminated trees under the pale moonlight.

It was time to show the difference between **_Hunter_** and **_Predator._**

**\-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------**

Blood slides down from both the knives hilt's, the metal part and plips slowly each-time onto the leaves, with my breath coming in laboured gasps - chest rising and falling under the ripped shirt I'm wearing followed by looking up at the pale white moon feeling rivulets of blood - not mine, which completely covered my face - trickle down my cheeks like tears.

Crimson petals are spattered everywhere, coating the forest leaves in faint gleaming, sheen. I bring one hand up to the belt which Paul Krendler had tried to use by looping the strap through the belt buckle then tightening it, effectively choking me until I had managed to reach for the Hunter's knife sending it straight into one of his eyes, taking it off to softly drop to the ground

What had happened next could only be described like a **_Berserker_** in a battlefield. I had lost control to the **_Predator_** within me. I lost control to the **_Beast_** hiding under my skin.

I lower my head back down, starting to walk through the forest wrapping the threadbare coat - which I had hung over a tree branch so it didn't get in the way - wrapping it around me tightly then coming to the dirt road, find myself falling to one side with a muffled thump onto the dust path.

My vision is fading in and out of focus, followed by distantly hearing a large vehicle pulling up and it stopping close to me, followed by someone getting out then large hands reach underneath my body to lift me up and carry me.

"Fra....cis!!?" I gasp out, labourly and weakly followed by coughing up blood which rises in my mouth and feel him placing me in the back where other hands slip the threadbare coat of placing it to one side.

I try to keep my eyes open, hearing a ripping sound of fabric and hands checking the injuries as the light of the moon rushes by into a fast blur as the large car speeds down the dirt path onto the main road then blackness soon sweeps in, covering my vision as sink into an unconscious state.

My last thought, being of Will holding me in his embrace as we both watch the sun setting over the rolling Atlantic Ocean.

* * *


	22. Another Journey into One's Crumbling Memory Palace, Facing More Murder Done by the "La Morte’s Shadow" When One Awakes In Hospital and is told by “The One who Wears Guilt Within his Heart, but Does Not Show it” About it and Made to Make a Promise

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sorry, for late update. Real life has been providing some hectic moments and so, now we continue...into the Inferno.

** Hannibal's P.O.V: **

**_How would you kill me?_ **

**_With my hands. A sword wouldn’t suit. Lacks intimacy._ **

**_I see, Wilhelm._ **

**_Will. Not Wilhelm. Only my Mother calls me that._ **

_Fluttering my eyes open, I sit up only to wince heavily at the wounds I’ve sustained and placing a hand to the bandages wrapped around my shoulder, feel blood starting to seep through the fine cloth then another wave of pain forces me to lay back down onto the blanket in the underground cave system._

_Footsteps coming down flights of stone steps, makes me weakly turn my face and see **Peter Bernardone** rushing over to me, embracing me in his arms causing me to wince heavily as I’m held by him making him pull back slightly to look at me._

**_Your wounds have reopened. Wait here, I’ll get some fresh cloth bandages._ **

_He pulls fully away, heading over to small alcove getting out fresh cloth bandages; a bowl of warm water to wash away the blood and thread to sew the wounds back up._

_He places them close by, reaching for the bloodied bandages and begins to peel them off causing me to grit my teeth because of it peeling away from skin then relaxing, watch him silently wash away the blood to expose the wound on my shoulder – getting rid of infection – then slip my eyes close, allowing him to care for here in the **Memory Palace** for the wounded warrior._

* * *

** Location – John Hopkins’s Hospital – Baltimore, Maryland – Early Morning **

_“Be gentle speaking with him, Detective Crawford. He’s still recovering from the injuries he sustained to his heart and shoulder”_

_“His heart? Is there is something wrong with Hannibal Lecter? How did this happen to him?”_

_“I’m sorry, I cannot any divulge any more information, because we ourselves don’t know either. Only that his cousin and Uncle brought him in, bleeding heavily and we nearly lost him on the operating table.”_

Jack’s voice and another whispering, makes me weakly flutter my eyes open to see a blurry image of him standing next to the Hospital bed I’m lying in with a nurse, who seeing I’m awake comes around to help me sit up against the pillows.

I weakly indicate if I could have glass of water to the Nurse wincing slightly because of the wounds. Memories of being carried by Francis into the Hospital and placed on trolley to get me to emergency surgery, while above my head the neon lights have waved past like a train going through a long tunnel come back to me.

“Haaa….Jack, what brings you here…to see me?” I say, voice weak from not having any liquid fluids in my system and take the cup of water from the nurse, taking a sip to soothe my parched throat as the Nurse holds it.

Allowing for none of the water to spill onto the Hospital bed covers followed by taking it away when I indicate I’ve had enough.

Laying back among the mound of pillows, I wince slightly placing a hand to my right shoulder and allow the nurse to pull the papery Hospital gown down slightly to check it pressing certain areas for any signs of swollenness, bruising or infection and Jack, comes over pulling the chair close to the bed out a bit so he can sit down in it.

“It…well, you’re not going to like it.” He replies, holding the case file in his hands out to me and taking it off him, place it on my lap opening it to reveal the crime scene photos and notes taken.

I begin to read the notes, feeling sicker and sicker each-time I read it then closing the file hand it back to him placing my face in my hands hearing the screams of the **_Lambs_** starting to again, I hunch into myself shuddering heavily with the fact this “ ** _Fledging Killer_** ” or “ ** _La Morte’s Shadow_** ” was becoming more deadlier by murdering people.

It was jealousy, rage and anguish they want the one…in my lives. They weren’t the one I loved and embraced. Instead Will, was by being my **_Beloved_** and soon to be Husband, when we finally got….married if it happened.

“Lure them in, Jack. This needs to stop and…I can’t do anything with these injuries if you ask for my help.” I say to him, after lowering my hands from my face making him nod in reply getting up out the seat and heads out the room, looking back at me one last time going to say something.

Only to decide better, stepping out and closing the door quietly behind him leaving me alone in the Hospital bed then stare out of the window, watching the rain starting to lash out of the glass windows.

* * *

** Location – John Hopkins’s Hospital – Baltimore, Maryland – Afternoon – 14:45pm **

The heart monitor steadily beeps, while I calmly rest under the soft covers of the Hospital bed with my head lying to one side on the pillow listening to the rain pounding on the window each-time the wind howls around the large Hospital building outside.

A noise, makes me open my eyes softly waiting for them to adjust to the light and see reflected in the glass window, pale as a sheet – Margo Verger with little Morgan. I turn my face to look at them both, smiling weakly and hold out my hand to my son, who comes rushing over to me.

I embrace him in my arms, wrapping them around his trembling body as he starts to cry heavily in the crook of my neck – loud, child sobbing which echoes in the room – because of seeing me in such the state I’m in – bandages, hooked up to life support machine and trying to cope with Hospital food.

“It’s okay….It’s alright, Morgan…..I’m here, I’m here.” I whisper softly in his ear, sifting a hand through his hair to calm him and see over him Peter, has appeared beside Margo, wringing his coat in his hands out of worry and concern for me.

“Hannibal, there are some things we need to discuss…privately.” She says, indicating the words she wants to say are for my ears only and allow Morgan to pull away from me, slipping off the bed to stand next to Peter who allows him take hold of his hand.

Both head out, leaving me alone with Margo, who sits down in the chair next to the bed gripping her purse tightly in both her fine, manicured hands and still keeping her face to one side – hiding one half of it away from me – then reaching out my hand, turn her chin gently to reveal the bruised mark on gentle, kind face.

“Margo, tell me. What…are you so afraid of?” I ask her, making her shake her head from side to side, like she has second thoughts that maybe she shouldn’t of come here and sighing decide to probe, knowing it might make her go into herself and not answer me. “Is…..Alana harming you? Is she…hurting you?”

A tear forms in her eyes, starting to run down her cheeks and she does nothing to stop them, allowing for them to make her mascara run down her cheeks in black trails. Here in front of me, was the shrouded woman I had seen in my crumbling **_Memory Palace_** and reaching for the tissue box on the bedside table then hold it out to her, making her take some to wipe away the black trails on her cheeks.

“Hannibal, you….must promise me.” She begins to say, looking straight at me and I indicate to her to continue speaking. “Promise me, you’ll…protect….Morgan, from **_La Morte’s Killer?_** Promise me?”

My heart-rate speeds up on the monitor, causing intense beeping to fill the Hospital room and flinging the covers back get out the bed, feeling a slight pain when in process tear out the IV in my arm then head over to the window, slamming clenched fists down on the windowsill.

Mine and Will’s little one – Morgan – was also under threat from **_La Morte’s Killer_** and distantly can feel blood trickling down my arm to plip onto the polished floor in slow motion then lifting my head to stare out at cars driving through the intense rain to home or to work, people going about their everyday lives with umbrellas in their hands or wearing raincoats to keep dry and finally her reflection in the glass.

“You…know I will protect him. I….promised that as soon as I saw him, he was mine and Will’s son, due to how he looks and acts around people. I know your…the Mother, because Mason never took your ovaries did he?” I say, asking her the question and she gets out the seat coming over to me to hand me a photo of baby scan showing little Morgan – a tiny fetal baby, curled up with the umbilical cord attached to Margo’s womb lining – and soon another showing how the development of him growing went past.

Being held in Margo’s arms, while she breastfed him; helping him to walk around the garden and finally the final image – him smiling at the camera, holding a drawing of me in his small hands and her holding him, smiling softly.

I would protect him and Peter because…I always kepted my promises no matter the cost. I always had and always will.

* * *


	23. A Promise Kept by Taking One’s Son Home with One and the “Gentle One”, A Marriage Proposal made after a Moonlit Swim With One’s Beloved and A call to talk about the new Crime Scenes Done by La Morte’s Killer

** Location - Safe-house near the Rolling Atlantic Ocean **

** Hannibal’s P.O.V: **

After being discharged from John Hopkins’s Hospital and given a prescription, which I have to take for the injuries

The ones I had sustained from fighting Paul Krendler or from a bar fight has Dr. Mikael Mercer believed when told by Dr. Ocrates then Morgan shifting in my lap, makes me look down at him as the hired Uber drives down the gravel as he lifts his head up to look at me with sleepy eyes.

Peter, next to me closes the book he is reading and bookmarking the page, while the Uber comes to halt in front of the **_Safehouse_** and getting out of the vehicle hold him in my arms tightly closing the door with one hand then head down the garden path with Peter, who is glad to be back home.

Unlocking the front door, I step inside to the warm interior with him still in my arms and putting him down, slip my coat off to place it on the coat hanger as he stays close to me then kneeling down help him take of his rain coat, as Peter hands me a towel to help dry him off.

“There. Is that better, Morgan?” I ask him, making him wrap his arms around my neck and hugging him back, feel calm now he was here with me and Peter.

* * *

The sea ripples back and forth on the soft, golden beach as walk calmly down the carved steps in the side of the cliff down to it – after helping Morgan to get ready for bed and leaving Peter to keep an eye on him – then reaching the final step, see the moonlight is shining on the silver still water.

Stopping, I bend down to unlace my shoes and slip my socks off, folding them to place in my shoes then tying the laces together step onto the sand, feeling it soft, smooth and not so course. Even though it is winter, the weather had been mildly warm this morning and afternoon, so it seems as well at evening.

I start to walk, just listening the soft _whoosh whoosh_ of the waves fill my ears and keeping my hands loosely in my pockets of the loose fitting jeans then come to the dock near some sand dunes, heading down to stand there looking outwards at the rolling Atlantic.

It is peaceful, calm and yet, I’m alone in looking at this view. Sighing softly, I sit down placing my legs over the edge to dangle over the lapping water against the wooden struts and wrapping my arms around myself, wish Will was here to hold me in his embrace.

Wrap his arms around me, press his chest against my back and comfort me.

“You’re playing games with yourself in the dark of the moon, Hannibal?” I hear a voice – Will’s voice – asking me, followed by his arms slipping around to hold me close to him and turning my face bring one hand up to cup his cheek.

“You….are supposed to be…somewhere else.” I reply, feeling him move his hands away and suddenly playfully shove me as I manage to twist grabbing his wrist to pull him into the water as well.

A splashing noise, followed by him soon breaking the surface of the water with splattering gasp and wading over to me, pulls me into a breathless kiss at the sametime we begin to slip of our clothes off. Chucking them onto the dry dock, he rises an eyebrow at me when he sees I’m wearing no boxers then his boxers join the pile of clothes on the dock.

Both of us wade further out into the lapping water, him soon pulling me underneath the gentle waves where both of us begin to swim softly through the water.

He swims close by to me, brushing past with soft caresses against my bare skin and twisting in the water rise upwards to break the surface of the water then suddenly breathlessly gasp, tilting my head backwards feeling his hands take hold of my thighs to lift up slight to hold in the crook of his arms and his head bend down between my thighs.

Due to being in the shallows, Will is kneeling on his knees and slipping my hand down cradling the back of his head with my hand – sifting it through his hair – allowing him to turn me, laying me down so I’m half submerged in the water with my back resting on the wet, cool sand. His hands caress my thighs, slipping upwards to rest on my abdomen and licking my lips to wet them, slipping my other hand down to caress his cheek with my thumb then my body tenses once, twice and finally a third final time.

My toes curl into the damp sand, scarring it and Will rises upwards denying me from having the orgasm that is building up and reaching up for him, pull him down into a kiss. It becomes bolder, him rolling us so I’m straddling him and still kissing him, flick my tongue over his lips to seek permission to explore as he allows it.

I begin to grind against his groin, brushing my own aching hard-on against his own and it becomes a rise and fall with both of us, breathing heavily through our nostrils as our tongues entwine dancing inside and outside our mouths – saliva either trickling down the side of our lips or being exchanged – then he let’s go to breathe, reaching one hand up to stroke a strand of wet hair from my forehead to tuck behind my ear.

_“The…way…you make me feel, Hannibal. You have no idea….how long I tried to deny during the time, you were framing me to see what made tick then…afterwards, I…couldn’t deny it any longer.”_ He says, gulping slightly with Adam’s bobbing in his throat as he swallows and continues. “ _Marry me, Hannibal Lecter? Become….my Husband.”_

My heart speeds up, followed by tears pricking my eyes and opening my mouth go to speak only to pull him down burying my face into the crook of his neck then taking a deep breath, place my lips against my ear.

“ _You…don’t know how long I waited to…hear those words from your lips.”_ I confess, feel him starting to kiss my neck – trailing his lips up and down in soft caress – moving downwards to caress the scars, licking up the salty sea water with his tongue and back up again to look down at me.

(TIME SKIP)

Up in the attic bedroom of the S ** _afehouse,_** sitting on the bed with him resting one hand on my back as he kneels between my parted thighs and keeping one hand resting on the blue cover of the bed up against the half-moon shaped window bring the other one up to place around his neck as he covers my lips with his.

It is gentle, soft. I feel him caress with his finger the outer edge of the **_Verger Brand_** circle and just relax – muscles losing tension – changing position each-time to deepen it.

Our lips moving softly, tasting and caressing, while I pull back to breathe and look at him resting my forehead against his, inhaling deeply his natural musky scent. He moves his other hand to place it on my chest – resting it where my hearts lays pounding, pumping with my life-force against my ribcage.

“ _Your heart’s pounding like a rabbits.”_

_“It’s the way you make me feel.”_

_“Frightened of me?”_

_“No. Just I never loved someone this much ever in my life.”_

****

* * *

** Location – Baltimore, Maryland – Wedding Registrar Office – 9:45am **

_“Are you nervous?”_

_“Nervous? No. I’m terrified.”_

Will, holding my hand as both of sit in the waiting room of the Wedding Registrar squeezes it lightly leaning forwards in the process to nuzzle his nose affectionally against mine then kisses me on the lips, lightly – a small peck leaving me shamely wanting more.

He pulls back, just as the office door opens and Mrs. Ochocci steps out into the waiting room coming over to us. She is tall woman, about 56 years old with silver grey hair tied back in tight bun and wearing a simple plain office dress of deep satin blue.

“Mr. Hannibal Lecter and Mr. Tomas Dalton ….. I believe.” She says, looking at both of us as we stand up and I can’t help but detect a note of something in her voice then she indicates for us to step into the main office.

Had she recognized Will’s face in some way or was it something else that was making her slightly skittish around us both?

Stepping into the main office, a grandfather clock chimes softly on the mantelpiece, a painting of old man sitting smoking a pipe in an armchair complementing the meaning of life and finally, a simple plain desk as she indicates for both of us to sit down.

“Now, there are some questions you have to understand for legal reasons must be answered on the form.” She says, slipping the Wedding Registrar form over to me and placing a pen down on top of it.

Placing the pen to one side, I lift the form up and leaning back in the chair cross one leg over the other as Will, pulls his chair closer to mine so both of us can read it. Mrs. Ochocci, gets back to calmly filling in a document on her laptop, with her red polished nails gleaming faintly in the light streaming through the blinds of the windows behind her.

“So, how did you two meet?” She asks me, making Will answer in my stead and keeping his hand clasped within mine, to calm and reassure me everything was alright.

“We…met at a talk in Florence, Italy. He was quoting Dante’s Inferno at the time. Weren’t you, **_Myilamis_**?” He says, calling me **_Beloved_** in my own language and kiss him, lightly on the lips – because there so tempting and kissable.

“Only in Italian. Dear, Tomas, here had to ask me for a translation then of course...followed by well….you can see it right here, now. He’s my… ** _Nakama_** and soon to be Husband.” I reply, coming to the last page of the form which waits for our signatures then taking the fountain nibbed pen hand it to him as he takes it off me and placing it on the paper, begins to sigh his fake name down.

He hands to me, while I sigh it off with one hand managing to keep it steady and soon place it down to one side, feeling relieved we are now officially on paper Husbands.

“Congratulations to the both of you – Mr. Tomas Dalton-Lecter and Mr. Hannibal Lecter-Dalton.” She says, holding out her hand for both of us to shake over the two signatures on the Wedding Registrar form.

* * *

** Location – Wolftrap, Virginia – Old Dirt-track near Will’s Old House **

It seems has soon has we had left the building and left the car, Will had been at such a state of wanting me, I’m glad as he pushes me into the leather seats in the back of the car that were down a dirt-track road with thick swathes of trees either side just near his old house in Wolftrap.

Feeling his hand unbutton my shirt at the sametime he attacks my neck with his lips, causing me to moan heavily with my head tilting backwards against the headrest as my eyes flutter shut at the touch of his lips against my bare skin.

“ _Ahhhhh….Will….Hmmm, yes…..Oh, oh, oh….”_

He licks his tongue upwards, at the sametime reaching my ear and bites the lobe of it between his teeth pulling it slightly to elicit a small amount of pain – which I don’t mind – then finally with my shirt unbutton, revealing my heaving chest rising and falling, starts to kiss his way downwards to caress my nipples – swirling his hot, moist tongue around them and alternating between the two.

I writhe against him, arching up into his mouth and when he bites down on one of them, cry out softly at the action in strange masochistic pleasure at the pain and would have gone further if it hadn’t been for my phone vibrating in my coat pocket.

Will, pulls back from me and reaches into my coat pocket to show me the caller ID is Jack Crawford then hands it to me, sitting next to me as he rests one hand on my chest and bringing the phone up to my ear answer it.

_“Hannibal, are you busy?”_

_“No, Jack. Not at the moment. Why?”_

I hear the older black man, sighing heavily like he is carrying a great burden and can’t get rid of it at the sametime Will, slips a hand over my **_Joker’s Grin_** scar brushing it with is fingertips causing me to bite my bottom lip to silence the whimper.

One which wants to escape when he goes lower to caress the trail of hair leading down to my already aching, throbbing and leaking sex within the confines of my boxers.

“ _It’s about these new Crime Scenes by **La Morte’s Killer.** They hark back to when you were killing in Florence, Hannibal. The victims in just the way, you killed Signor Roman Fell, Mr. Anthony Dimmond and finally Detective Pazzi.”_

_“There…”_

I gasp breathlessly before I can stop myself, nearly dropping the phone and yet, Will who has now bent his head down swallows me whole into his warm, moist mouth then manage to bring the phone back up to my ear, at the sametime sliding one hand one down to sift through my Husband’s soft, curls encouraging him not to stop.

_“Hannibal, everything alright? You sound breathless all of sudden.”_

_“Sorry, Jack. My injuries still cause me some pain when I move in certain way. I just pulled a muscle that’s all. Has I was saying…..there escalating ain’t they?”_

_“Yes, dangerously so. Can you come to the Headquarters, when you have time?”_

_“I…promise…to come as soon as possible.”_

_“Alright. Talk some other time, Hannibal.”_

He cuts off, making soon drop the phone to the floor and succumb soon to pressure building within as it comes to climax then slump against the leather seats, while Will caresses my hips drawing out the last remmants of the orgasm from me. I loosen my grip on his hair, feeling him rise his head from lap to kiss me and taste on his swollen, reddened lips the essence of my release as both of us, continue to kiss for now.

Experimenting making love in the outdoors or in the back of the car down a beaten dirt-track never used by cars could be done when we had more time.

At the moment, all we can do is kiss breathlessly until both of us have to pull back to breathe and flicking my gaze up to him slip onto the carpeted floor of the carpet between his parted thighs – seeing his jeans are already open and boxers slipped down enough – then bend down my head, hearing a soft satisfied gasp of my name, coming from as I swallow him down into my moist, hot mouth.

_“Hannibal.”_

* * *


	24. Investigating the New Crimes Scenes by La Morte’s Killer, Travelling Back into One’s Crumbling Memory Palace to Find Clues into Whether One Knows them and Discovering instead Hidden Memories

** Location – F.B.I Behavioral and Science Unit – 9:00am **

** Hannibal’s P.O.V: **

Sitting at the large table desk in the same classroom, which Will had once used to teach **F.B.I** students lectures in, I calmly begin to sort through the fresh crime scenes photos; notes and evidence which had come from the three major Crime scenes. This **_Fledging Killer_** , who had appeared out of nowhere and started to emulate my crimes had now started to escalate by doing three murders that were just like the ones I had done in Florence, Italy.

Mr. Roman Fell, hunted and killed in the depths of the Florentine underground caverns under the very house he lived in, followed by burying him in concrete after taking the necessary organs I needed from him. They had found his wife Lydia Fell and killed her the same way with one difference – had taken the wedding ring of her finger.

Anthony Dimmond, I had killed by bashing his head in with the head statue of Socrates and they in turn had bashed in the head of a renowned Baltimore Poet – known for being amazing at writing poems – with a small statue of another great Greek Scholar.

Finally, Detective Rinaldo Pazzi – disgraced, no longer working for Florentine Poliza Headquarters – I had severed his life in the same way his ancestor Francesco Pazzi had been killed and so, they had chosen out of everyone to kill Clark Ingram.

Last I heard, though he had been in Cuba. It seems he been caught by them and murdered.

Placing the crimes scene photos side by side, I stand up placing both hands flat on the wooden surface feeling the golden pendulum swinging once, twice and finally, a third time as I delve deep into my crumbling **_Memory Palace._**

* * *

_Fluttering my eyes open, I see in front of me - a long hallway with paintings on the walls either side as the paint in them begins to slowly bleed out of the frames running down the faded, peeling wallpaper as I begin to walk slowly down the hallway with my footsteps echoing off the polished floor then reach a door, light blue in color with a gold painted knob on it. Hearing faint strains of a lullaby starting coming from within._

_Taking a deep breath, I place my hand on the knob and twist it, allowing for the door to swing open to reveal a women who I think is my Mother, but I can’t tell, sitting in a rocking chair near the large Nursey windows singing softly in Lithuanian a lullaby – the same one, I had sung to Peter to help calm him – then walk up to her, seeing she is holding a child in her arms calmly being lulled to sleep._

**_“Akasha? Where are you? There you are._ ** _A voice says from the corridor of the hallway, making me frown at it because it sounded so…familiar and turning watch as Dr. Ocrates – slightly younger appears in his Butler uniform at the doorway - and comes over, looking down at the child, continuing to speak. **“Wait, what you doing with him in your arms?!! Akasha, I thought I told you what would happen if you’re discovered like this.”**_

**_“Robeirre, please don’t take him away from me. You can’t take…him away from me. NO!!? ROBIERRE, PLEASE!!!?”_ ** _The women – Akasha – beseechs him, reaching out to Dr. Ocrates who has taken the unknown child out of her arms and holds him away followed by sighing heavily, turning his face away as another figure appears at the doorway._

_Two more figures are behind them and step into the Nursey room, hauling her out the rocking chair as she starts to struggle in vain trying to reach for the child being held by the younger version of Dr. Ocrates then disappears from sight, while the other figure reveals himself to be my Father._

_“ **I thought you promised me, Robeirre that this wouldn’t happen again. The fact Akasha, got in this room which I evidently gave you the key to lock tells me that maybe I was wrong to give it to you. You will leave tomorrow and never come back.”** My father hisses, stepping out and heading away leaving Dr. Ocrates holding the small child who is woken up and looking up at him then the **Memory** dissolves away like liquid smoke._

_I stumble into another **Memory** , which begins to solidified into the when I had been at the Orphanage after Mischa’s death revealing in front of me the harsh, granite building of cold, grey stone with Autumnal ivy growing up on the sides of the large, imposing building as I walk across the courtyard stepping within the interior. Orderlies who run the Orphanage go back and forth, doing the daily chores and can hear the many sounds of orphaned children beginning to wake up to start their chores._

_My younger self, wrecked by being in the forests around my birthplace is brought inside and made to stand waiting in the foyer, still shivering from being traumatized after the death of my sister then the Matron of the Orphanage – Mrs. Druvikich – appears, coming up to look down at me._

_“ **Any bad behavior and** **it will be sleeping in the coal scuttle for you. Do you understand, young one?”** She asks my younger self and remember had not answered, resulting in her slapping me across the cheek so hard it had split my lower lip drawing blood in the process._

_At that time, I had been curious at the taste of my own blood and licked my lips to taste the metallic iron tang of it. I come out of remembering that, watching now as two white uniformed Lackies grab my younger self by the arms and lead me upstairs to the eating area._

_A bowl of gruel is placed down and a dry piece of bread, nothing to indicate any kindness in this place. Around me other children, stare at my younger self and one group in particular take interest followed by the Leader – an older boy, his face is blurred to me at the moment._

_Why couldn’t I see it? Who had he been? Had I blocked out his face from my **Memory** because of the near sexual assault that happened later on the middle of the night?_

_Could he had somehow survived the Orphanage fire that had happened and he was the **Fledging Killer** looking for revenge for what I had done to get away from the vile, cold and empty place?_

_The **Memory** dissipates, blowing away as particles of sand in the a strong breeze and hearing a ship’s horn turn to look upwards seeing standing on the deck is myself – 34 years old and heading to the Boarding School in Paris, France – and walking to the flight of stairs leading to the deck my younger self is on, head up, walking up to stand next to my younger self. Looking at how I looked all those years ago, makes me remember I was now much older._

_“ **Oh, Hannibal?”** A voice shouts, making me look down to see the familiar face of Jacques Yuven – artist Student at this time and womanizer by night – waving his hand to my younger self and disappears to come up onto the deck, heading over to lean against the metal railing._

_“ **There you are. Wondering where you were?** He says. **“So, ready for Paris, petite Mon Cherie?** Using the nickname he used to call me._

_Making my younger self glare at him slightly and go back to looking at the diminishing white cliffs of Dover – where in England, I remember had stayed for a while with Uncle Robertus, before he packed me off to boarding school._

_Then my younger self moves away, starting to walk as the ship dissolves away to change into a long avenue of trees curving inwards has light shines through the canopy of the light green leaves, while bird song comes from some hedges close by and see up ahead the gateway to the large Parisian Boarding School._

_My younger self is alone, holding the satchel strap with one hand and arrives at the arched gateway seeing the inscription in the stonework “ **The wind is rising, we must learn to live”** in French, followed by heading through the arch. _

_Time moves forward, with snippets of speech echoing around me the white, shrouded mist of voices – Will’s, Jack’s, Alana’s, Abigail’s, Gideon’s, Chilton’s, Bedelia’s and Freddie Lounds’ – mixing together and disappaiting as something soon rises from the floor, curled into itself as it rises to hover above the white surface._

_It’s smoky, inky black body looks like the surface of earth when storm clouds are brewing across the surface spiraling their way across it to wreak havoc and destruction followed by soon lifting its head to unearthly screech at me. Lunging forwards to cover me, spreading across my body like oil._

_Pulling me downwards into the deep well of it, blocking out all sight and hearing as my vision fades to nothing._

* * *


	25. Spending Time with One’s Little One and the Gentle One, while the Threat of the La Morte’s Killer Gets Closer and Closer like a Noose Being Placed around One’s Neck, Confronting the Old Serpent on the Hidden Memories, Resulting in Hard

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> (rest of chapter title) 
> 
> ....*and Painful Truths Coming out From Them and Sending Letters to Three People who Themselves May be the La Morte’s Killer

** Location - Safe-house near the Rolling Atlantic Ocean **

** Hannibal’s P.O.V: **

“Morgan, Peter?” I call out, when I step into the interior of the house to indicate I’m back home and soon hear the rushing patter of bare footsteps to reveal Morgan naked as the day he was born covered in soap suds from having a bath and closing the front door behind, kneel down to embrace him in my arms, hauling him up to rest on my right hip.

“Oof, I swear you’re getting heavy, little Wolf.” I jokily say to him, making him do pretend pout at me as he crosses his arms over his small chest and chuckle lightly at this, followed by heading to the bathroom where Peter is waiting with soft, fluffy white towel.

“He knew it was you, even before you came in. Sixth sense, I say, Hannibal.” Peter says, while I place Morgan down so he be dried off and try not to think at this moment, it was feeling like an invisible noose was being made to soon to be placed around my neck by unseeing hands.

“ ** _Papa,_** what’s wrong?” Morgan asks me, noticing how I’m staring into space and shaking my head slightly to clear the foggy haze I’m experiencing, touching my forehead with the back of his hand to check my temperature.

“Papa’s fine. I just have....to take my medicine now.” I reply, kissing the crown of his head as I stand up and head out of the bathroom to go into the kitchen, needing some breathing space to take the medicine for…the condition which Dr. Mikael Mercer had discovered.

If I didn’t take the prescription… _No, Hannibal, don’t think about that at the moment and just get it over with…._ making me reach into one of the cupboards to take out the foil wrapping for the prescription tablets then pouring a glass of water, snap the foil in half to take the tablet out. I place it in my mouth, holding it and bringing the glass of water to my lips take a drink to wash it down, swallowing heavily with one hand resting on the kitchen counter for support.

Soon placing the glass down after I finished on the polished surface, I breathe softly in and out to calm my pounding heart, which feels like it is trying to escape from the confines of my ribcage. Trying not to think of the imaginary noose starting to now come over my throat and tightening to point where it feels I like won’t be able to breathe anymore because of the pressure.

* * *

I’m busy making **_kale, spelt and chorizo broth_** , when Dr. Ocrates steps into the kitchen coming in the same way he did before from the double kitchen door’s and keep my attention off him, instead on preparing the meal for dinner.

“Your very quiet, Hannibal. Has something happened?” He asks me, while I start to skin the tomatoes, cutting a little cross the base of then lower them into bowl of boiling water, so the skin can furl off and they will be ready to be transferred to a bowl of cold water so I can peel away the fine skin of them.

“Who’s **_Akasha?”_** I ask quietly in the stillness of the kitchen and he straightens up looking at me in shock that I somehow knew that name which I can see flicking my gaze up has deeply affected him.

“Who…told you that name?” He asks me, voice verging into hiss almost like snakes and transferring the tomatoes which have now fully furled to the bowl of cold water to start peeling off the skin.

“No-one. I went into my **_Memory Palace_** and discovered…one could say hidden Memories, **_Robeirre.”_** I say, causing him to stiffen at his what is his real name and his hand sweeps out, knocking both bowls of the polished work surface of the kitchen counter causing them to hit the floor with tinkling smash.

Dashing themselves to tiny pieces – millions of tiny ceramic pieces – and water splashing everywhere to start spreading across the floor as he glares at me, with such anger on his features I keep my gaze locked on his – not backing down, until I get some answers.

“You have no idea….of the consequences of that name you just mentioned to me. But then, you would have discovered in time all these **_Memories_** and I, would been forced to reveal everything I was made to promise not to tell you by….your own Father in different way. Not like this, Hannibal.” He says, breathing heavily and slumping into the kitchen counter seat as I wait for him to calm himself then begins to speak.

“Akasha is…..Was your real Mother, Hannibal. Your other Mother, the one you remember was never your real Mother in the first place as she couldn’t bear children at all as she had been diagnosed with Ovarian Cancer – very serious at the time and in your birthplace, untreatable I’m afraid due to dodgy Doctors always making mistakes. Akasha bore you and also…”

“Continue, please?” I ask him, making him sigh softly as I turn to pour him a glass of water and slip it across to him, which he picks up then taking a sip, sighs heavily like he is finally relieving a great burden on his shoulders but at a cost.

“Your Father when he found out you were Akasha’s son, tried to separate you from her. But your other Mother, insisted to keep her own as Nanny for your little sister Mischa. The argument was about whether when you’re older…you should be separated from your own sister.”

I try to speak, only to collapse into the kitchen stool trying to make sense of what he has just told me. All this time…..he kepted this secret, because of what brought out to light then remember the other child in Akasha’s arms.

“Then the other child, she had. Who was that?” I ask him, making him reach into his suit pocket pulling out a half-folded photo and hands it to me, while unfold it to reveal a young man with features almost like mine and yet, more of gangster type of look to him.

“That is your half-brother Nigel Rukos Gryvick. He now lives in Bucharest, with no knowledge you exist at all and it will stay that way, until you found a way to get rid of this **_La Morte’s Killer_**.” He replies, turning his gaze to look at me.

Shuddering heavily, with shoulders starting to shake, I lower my head to weep heavily burying my face into my hands tears starting to run down my cheeks – rivulets like a stream going down a mountainside - to plip onto the polished surface at the hard truth Mischa would have been separated from me and I, from her; my Mother was really a women called Akasha and I had Brother living in Bucharest who knew nothing of my existence.

Sometimes the **_Truth_** hurts and this **_Truth,_** I had been told felt like it was rending me in two. Stabbing into my heart like a shard of glass.

It hurts to feel it.

It hurts to feel something which had been hidden from me and told in this way.

* * *

After managing to compose myself, wipe away the tears trails down my cheeks and splashing my face with cold water, I sit at the large dining table with the fountain pen scratching across the paper’s surface. Dr. Ocrates or **_Robeirre_** watches me from where he sits in the armchair as **_Scarlatti_** plays from the radio, writing two letters where I know two people from the **_Hidden Memories_** are maybe still staying.

Either one of them could be **_La Morte’s Killer_**. The only way to find out was to send these letters to the two addresses – one to the Lithuanian Orphanage and the Parisian Boarding School – then sealing them, place them to one side to pick up a glass of **_Animus Douro (2017)_** from the Portugal Vineyards and inhaling deeply the ripe, blueberry fruit mixed with soft, supple tannins scent take a sip feeling it for now soothe my palate.

If both Jacques Yuven and the mysterious person from the Orphanage came here to Baltimore, Virginia I would have to see which one would make the first move in attacking me or even my little one to wound me deeply. But, then it might not either of them and **_La Morte’s Killer_** might not be someone from my childhood **_Past_** but the **_Past_** me and Will had shared before the **_Teacup_** had shattered itself.


	26. Feeling like a Noose Being Placed around One’s Neck,  Threat of the La Morte’s Killer Gets Closer and Closer Confronting the Old Serpent on the Hidden Memories, Resulting in Hard and Painful Truths and Sending Letters to Three People

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Author’s Note – Just made things even more complicated, heart-wrenching and emotional angst warning alert. Tissues will be handed out in digital form if you need them, plus cookies and Sweet Williams for any who like flowers and hugs will be given by Will, myself and Hannibal.
> 
> Gaahhh!! This is one emotional angst fic I set a task to write about. But I ain’t stopping, we all still got a way to travel through Hannibal’s Beloved’s Inferno.

** Location - Safe-house near the Rolling Atlantic Ocean **

** Hannibal’s P.O.V: **

“Morgan, Peter?” I call out, when I step into the interior of the house to indicate I’m back home and soon hear the rushing patter of bare footsteps to reveal Morgan naked as the day he was born covered in soap suds from having a bath and closing the front door behind, kneel down to embrace him in my arms, hauling him up to rest on my right hip.

“Oof, I swear you’re getting heavy, little Wolf.” I jokily say to him, making him do pretend pout at me as he crosses his arms over his small chest and chuckle lightly at this, followed by heading to the bathroom where Peter is waiting with soft, fluffy white towel.

“He knew it was you, even before you came in. Sixth sense, I say, Hannibal.” Peter says, while I place Morgan down so he be dried off and try not to think at this moment, it was feeling like an invisible noose was being made to soon to be placed around my neck by unseeing hands.

“ ** _Papa,_** what’s wrong?” Morgan asks me, noticing how I’m staring into space and shaking my head slightly to clear the foggy haze I’m experiencing, touching my forehead with the back of his hand to check my temperature.

“Papa’s fine. I just have....to take my medicine now.” I reply, kissing the crown of his head as I stand up and head out of the bathroom to go into the kitchen, needing some breathing space to take the medicine for…the condition which Dr. Mikael Mercer had discovered.

If I didn’t take the prescription… _No, Hannibal, don’t think about that at the moment and just get it over with…._ making me reach into one of the cupboards to take out the foil wrapping for the prescription tablets then pouring a glass of water, snap the foil in half to take the tablet out. I place it in my mouth, holding it and bringing the glass of water to my lips take a drink to wash it down, swallowing heavily with one hand resting on the kitchen counter for support.

Soon placing the glass down after I finished on the polished surface, I breathe softly in and out to calm my pounding heart, which feels like it is trying to escape from the confines of my ribcage. Trying not to think of the imaginary noose starting to now come over my throat and tightening to point where it feels I like won’t be able to breathe anymore because of the pressure.

* * *

I’m busy making **_kale, spelt and chorizo broth_** , when Dr. Ocrates steps into the kitchen coming in the same way he did before from the double kitchen door’s and keep my attention off him, instead on preparing the meal for dinner.

“Your very quiet, Hannibal. Has something happened?” He asks me, while I start to skin the tomatoes, cutting a little cross the base of then lower them into bowl of boiling water, so the skin can furl off and they will be ready to be transferred to a bowl of cold water so I can peel away the fine skin of them.

“Who’s **_Akasha?”_** I ask quietly in the stillness of the kitchen and he straightens up looking at me in shock that I somehow knew that name which I can see flicking my gaze up has deeply affected him.

“Who…told you that name?” He asks me, voice verging into hiss almost like snakes and transferring the tomatoes which have now fully furled to the bowl of cold water to start peeling off the skin.

“No-one. I went into my **_Memory Palace_** and discovered…one could say hidden Memories, **_Robeirre.”_** I say, causing him to stiffen at his what is his real name and his hand sweeps out, knocking both bowls of the polished work surface of the kitchen counter causing them to hit the floor with tinkling smash.

Dashing themselves to tiny pieces – millions of tiny ceramic pieces – and water splashing everywhere to start spreading across the floor as he glares at me, with such anger on his features I keep my gaze locked on his – not backing down, until I get some answers.

“You have no idea….of the consequences of that name you just mentioned to me. But then, you would have discovered in time all these **_Memories_** and I, would been forced to reveal everything I was made to promise not to tell you by….your own Father in different way. Not like this, Hannibal.” He says, breathing heavily and slumping into the kitchen counter seat as I wait for him to calm himself then begins to speak.

“Akasha is…..Was your real Mother, Hannibal. Your other Mother, the one you remember was never your real Mother in the first place as she couldn’t bear children at all as she had been diagnosed with Ovarian Cancer – very serious at the time and in your birthplace, untreatable I’m afraid due to dodgy Doctors always making mistakes. Akasha bore you and also…”

“Continue, please?” I ask him, making him sigh softly as I turn to pour him a glass of water and slip it across to him, which he picks up then taking a sip, sighs heavily like he is finally relieving a great burden on his shoulders but at a cost.

“Your Father when he found out you were Akasha’s son, tried to separate you from her. But your other Mother, insisted to keep her own as Nanny for your little sister Mischa. The argument was about whether when you’re older…you should be separated from your own sister.”

I try to speak, only to collapse into the kitchen stool trying to make sense of what he has just told me. All this time…..he kepted this secret, because of what brought out to light then remember the other child in Akasha’s arms.

“Then the other child, she had. Who was that?” I ask him, making him reach into his suit pocket pulling out a half-folded photo and hands it to me, while unfold it to reveal a young man with features almost like mine and yet, more of gangster type of look to him.

“That is your half-brother Nigel Rukos Gryvick. He now lives in Bucharest, with no knowledge you exist at all and it will stay that way, until you found a way to get rid of this **_La Morte’s Killer_**.” He replies, turning his gaze to look at me.

Shuddering heavily, with shoulders starting to shake, I lower my head to weep heavily burying my face into my hands tears starting to run down my cheeks – rivulets like a stream going down a mountainside - to plip onto the polished surface at the hard truth Mischa would have been separated from me and I, from her; my Mother was really a women called Akasha and I had Brother living in Bucharest who knew nothing of my existence.

Sometimes the **_Truth_** hurts and this **_Truth,_** I had been told felt like it was rending me in two. Stabbing into my heart like a shard of glass.

It hurts to feel it.

It hurts to feel something which had been hidden from me and told in this way.

After managing to compose myself, wipe away the tears trails down my cheeks and splashing my face with cold water, I sit at the large dining table with the fountain pen scratching across the paper’s surface. Dr. Ocrates or **_Robeirre_** watches me from where he sits in the armchair as **_Scarlatti_** plays from the radio, writing two letters where I know two people from the **_Hidden Memories_** are maybe still staying.

Either one of them could be **_La Morte’s Killer_**. The only way to find out was to send these letters to the two addresses – one to the Lithuanian Orphanage and the Parisian Boarding School – then sealing them, place them to one side to pick up a glass of **_Animus Douro (2017)_** from the Portugal Vineyards and inhaling deeply the ripe, blueberry fruit mixed with soft, supple tannins scent take a sip feeling it for now soothe my palate.

If both Jacques Yuven and the mysterious person from the Orphanage came here to Baltimore, Virginia I would have to see which one would make the first move in attacking me or even my little one to wound me deeply. But, then it might not either of them and **_La Morte’s Killer_** might not be someone from my childhood **_Past_** but the **_Past_** me and Will had shared before the **_Teacup_** had shattered itself.

* * *


	27. Visiting the Grave of a Daughter One Could Never Have, Meeting One’s Rude Half-Brother at the Grave, who Come to find out who their Brother is and Teaching Them Some Manners by making them Help One with Looking at Evidence....*

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ......*Ascertained from the all the Crime Scenes of La Morte’s Killer (rest of Chapter Title)

** Location – Duluth, Minnesota – Cemetery **

**_ABIGAIL HOBBS_ **

**_“May a flight of Angels sing thee to rest and comfort her during that time”_ **

Are the words engraved and painted gold on her tombstone, when I finally found it among the many here in Duluth Cemetery in Minnesota and standing there looking at the cold, polished black marble then kneel down to place the fresh flowers on the mound of earth covered now by fresh layer of snow – which is starting to melt remembering the time in the kitchen when she had been so afraid of being considered an accomplice for her father’s murders.

**_“_ ** _Will, knows doesn’t he?”_

_Abigail asks me, while I finish cleaning up the dishes and she cleans the wine glasses then answer her quietly, seeing how she stiffens in shock and places the wine glass down she is polishing dry._

_“Yes. Will, knows you killed Nicholas Boyle and yet, there is one thing you want admit to yourself. The one secret you can’t hide anymore.”_

_Her hands start to shake, while I finish what I’m doing to stand close to hear her whisper so quietly at first I don’t hear and tell her to say it louder to me._

_“I can’t hear you, Abigail.”_

_“I helped kill those girls. I’m a…. **Monster”**_

_She says, breaking into tears and turning to bury her face into my chest as I allow her to, bringing one hand to cradle the back of her head sifting my hand through her hair and the other resting on her spine just holding her in simple embrace._

_“You’re….not a **Monster** , Abigail. I know what Monsters are like and you’re not one of them. Me and Will, were going to protect you. I promise.” _

I come out of the ** _Memory_** , feeling a solitary tear run down my cheek and bringing one hand up wipe it away as I sigh heavily at the fact if the Teacup hadn’t shattered then Abigail would still be alive in some way – a Daughter that me and Will could have raised together if hadn’t been for the **_Betrayal_** – then motorbike engine driving down the gravel path in front of the Tombstones around me makes me lift my head.

It drives up, stopping to halt with the biker on it turning their helmeted gaze to me and heading down to them, stand in front of them waiting for them to speak or even take of the helmet – which reflects me in the curved polished surface – then gloved hands reach up, slipping it off to reveal one person who I never thought to see.

“Nigel?!!”

“You must be…my big Bro, Hannibal Lecter. What are you 50 or something?” Nigel asks me, bordering almost on the rude and flicks his gaze up and down my body causing me to cross my arms over my chest.

“47, little Brother of mine. I’ve yet to reach that age, until the next three years. What brings you here to Duluth, Minnesota?” I ask him, while he swings one leg over to place it on the ground next to the other and gets out a cigarette from a packet in his leather coat pocket.

Lighting it with battered old silvery lighter with faded picture of bikini-clad woman on it, clinking it shut and placing it back in his pocket.

“Wanted to know, who my Mother meant before she died in her deathbed. Said I had a Brother and that was all, I got out of her before she fucking left this world.” He says, blowing out a wreath of white smoke into the air and mostly out of spite towards my direction as I turn my face to one side to avoid it.

“I was told you where living in Bucharest. What happened, Nigel? Gangster life was too tough for you out there, with obeying orders from someone more superior than you.” I say, making him lower the cigarette from his lips and gets up dropping it to the gravel ground stepping close to me.

“You!!! Son of a bitch, you know that. Don’t….just don’t ever mention that goddam place again. EVER.” He says, shouting the last word with a Romanian curse as I find myself - even though I shouldn’t do it because he was still Brother by blood – slapping him across the cheek hard.

Hearing the resounding crack echo in Cementry. He doesn’t stumble, only stays still allowing for the blood from his split lip to trickle down the side of chin and plip slowly onto the gravel then he turns his gaze back to me, now ashamed of himself for acting in the way he has.

_“Nigel, you must learn to control the deep resentment of anger you hold within you. It won’t solve everything for you.”_

_“I….guess you’re right, Bro. I’m a fucking mess, ain’t I? Look at me, coming here and next moment I’m arguing with you. I’m such…a fucking asshole.”_

_“Then…it’s time you learned some manners. I need your help.”_

_“With what?”_

_“You heard of this new killer – **La Morte’s Killer?”**_

_“Yeah, being reading that shit in paper, Bro. You want my help, with finding out who they are. Sure, I’ll help.”_

_“Good. Now are you hungry?”_

_“Fucking starving like a dog without a bone.”_

* * *

** Location - Safe-house near the Rolling Atlantic Ocean **

After making something to eat for the both of us, Nigel, now sits at the dining table going over the Crime Scene Photos; Notes and Evidence then taps ash from his cigarette into the ash-tray I had brought for him so none of it got onto the carpet as I stand by the large windows arms crossed over my chest.

Morgan is at school, while Peter is busy at the Home and Rescue Centre for Orphaned Pets working with Will’s ex-wife – who still even now, believes he his dead and blames me for his death – then a coughing fit, makes me tear my gaze away to look at Nigel.

“I’m fine, Bro. Just smoker’s cough, that’s all.” He says, indicating for me to come over to him and he pulls a seat out for me, while I sit down looking at how he has placed them in order – but excluded the Botticelli Crime Scene One, placing it away from the rest.

“It’s not the most accurate of timelines. But from…what I can tell with the photos and evidence this was planned well before even well before you committed the crimes in Florence, Italy.” He says, surprising me he knew about the Florence crimes I committed when I was emotionally compromised and heartbroken one could say. “Bro, I saw on them in the newspapers, when I was in Florence for a Business meeting.”

“So, you’re saying these were planned before those Crimes. Someone who…studied my crimes and knew them…” I begin to say, only for realization to sink in and getting out the chair stand near the window placing both on the glass for support shoulders trembling heavily.

There was only other person, who would be jealous of my affection for Will. Yet, it couldn’t be them as they were in B.S.H.C.I for trying to murder me and maybe they might have answers then to why this is happening.

Maybe they knew who La Morte’s Killer was.

Knew who there were and their real identity.

* * *


	28. Meeting the Solitary Hawk who is Confined to a Gilded Cage to ask them Questions about La Morte’s Killer, A Message is Given from La Morte’s Killer Through a Warning to One to Stop Loving One’s Beloved or there Will Be Consequences and Saved.......*

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> *by One’s Half-Brother from the Group Who Attacked One (Rest of Chapter Title)

** Location – Baltimore, Maryland - _B.S.H.C.I_ \- Lower Levels – 10:34am **

** Hannibal’s P.O.V: **

The lower levels of the **_B.S.H.C.I_** are still the same as they were when Will, was imprisoned here after I had framed him for killing Abigail – only to spirit her away, placing her some place safe where not even Jack would have find her not matter how hard he looked and remembered she had looked me with terrified eyes just before I slit her throat widening the scar her Father had given her.

Cold, dank and the most horrendous place for anyone to be in, while the gate buzzes in front of me and slides open allowing me to step into the long corridor as remaining Inmates – who remember with envy **_Hannibal the Cannibal,_** who had the fancy cell on the Higher Level and everything he asked for he would get – come up to the bars of the cells, watching me with leery, hateful gazes.

The jeering and catcalls soon start up, while I begin to walk down the long corridor with the dim lights above my head flickering once and while – showing the amount of electricity consumption this place took to run itself – then pass Will’s Old Cell stopping at it to just look at the empty place where he once been.

“What brings you down here in this neck of the woods, Dr. Lecter?” A voice – his voice, causing the scars on my wrists to tingle slightly with faint remainder – and tearing my gaze away from the Will’s Old Cell walk further down until I come to where it originates from.

A chair has been placed conveniently behind a white chalked line and looking at the figure hiding in the shadows of the darkened cell, wait until the one person who know hated me for cheating **_Death_** by his hands – Matthew Brown, former **_B.S.H.C.I Orderly_** – then smirks at me.

“Come closer. I don’t bite, like you do, **_Hannibal the Cannibal.”_** He says, causing chuckles and sniggers to come from the other Inmates further down the corridor back the way towards the only way out of the Lower Levels.

“I feel rather safe on this side of the line if you don’t mind, Matthew.” I reply, causing a mocking “ _Ohhhh”_ to come from one of the other Inmates about four cells down and sit down on the seat calmly keeping the brown leather coat with fake fur trim collar on crossing one leg over noticing how his eyes watch every movement I make.

“So, what do you want? I guess this is not just some social call to check on how I’m doing is it?” He asks me, going to lean against the wall and looking at me side-on folding his arms over his chest.

“Information….on…. ** _La Morte’s Killer_**.” I tell him, causing him to stiffen heavily at the words as curses from the other Inmates, I block out focusing instead on Matthew and only him.

“You have no idea what a dangerous part of the **_Inferno_** you’re stepping into. This could burn you, Hannibal Lecter.” He says, looking at me with such expression it almost reminds of Abigail when she interrogated me into why had made her kill her Father again even though he was already dead – after I taken the body away and cleaned the Hunting knife made of Stag Bone to place it back in one of the hidden drawers in my desk in my Office.

The Office, which is now Alana Bloom’s Office.

“Matthew, you may not know this. But they have killed again, emulating three crimes I did in Florence, Italy and I want to know….who are they really.” I force out to speak – as it feels like the familiar noose is starting to tighten once more again around my neck – and he sighs heavily, tilting his head backwards to look up the ceiling of his darkened **_Glided Cage_**.

A **_Solitary Hawk,_** with no freedom to spread its wings and feel the breeze ruffling its feathers as it flies over the landscape below it searching for **_Prey_**.

“They forced me to make a Promise. That if you ever come to visit, I wouldn’t reveal to you their true Identity at all. The problem is…I don’t remember their face at all or anything else afterwards, because I woke up back in my cell.” He says, seeing how there is disappoint in my features at the chance of getting to find out who this person hiding in the shadows was then continues. “But, their voice is one thing I can’t forget.”

“Tell me.” I say to him, wondering when also I had decided to get up and step closer to the bars at the sametime he turns to face me.

Distantly, I can hear the Orderlies shouting at me to get back behind the white line in case he tries to attack me and suddenly – like snake striking at lightning speed – his hand shoots through the gap in the bars pulling me flush against them by my right hip sending slight pain through it as it makes contact with the metal.

I wince slightly, managing to compose myself feeling him lean up to my ear and bringing one hand up to indicate to the Orderlies I’ll be fine – hearing them back off a relative distance, but still close just in case – then whispers it to me.

“ _Hannibal, you have to understand. The voice was young woman’s and I swear by…my own Father’s Grave….the voice sounded just like that girl you left to die…Abigail Hobbs.”_

_“Matthew, that’s impossible. She’s dead, buried under the six feet under and has a Tombstone marking her death in Baltimore Cementry.”_

_“How do you know it is really her buried there? You don’t, because you left for Florence after leaving her to bleed out on your kitchen floor. How do you know if she somehow survived without your knowledge?”_

He pulls back, slipping away back into the shadows and trying to compose myself the best I can start to walk back down to the only way out as the other Inmates – who all gone silent – watch me leaving the Lower Levels heading back into the light.

Though feeling like I just left part of myself trapped down, trying in vain to get free from the confines of the Cell it had been placed into.

* * *

** Location – Baltimore, Maryland - Outside B.S.H.C.I – 11:34am **

I feel dazed, lightheaded even as I step out of the large building of **_B.S.H.C.I_** heading down the steps to start walking down the pavement – because I had taken public transport instead of my car which today was due it’s MOT – the words he had whispered to me re-echoing and echoing in my mind.

It wasn’t possible for Abigail to have survived or had I miscalculated like I had with Will, when giving him the **_Joker’s Grin?_**

Could if she were alive…be **_La Morte’s Killer_** in disguise and doing these Crimes as revenge out of jealousy; anger and emotional reason – like Love – because of me now being more intimate with Will?

Will, my **_Beloved_** and Husband in one.

I keep on walking, stepping out of the way to allow of bunch of school children to run past as they head to the shops for Lunchtime and that’s when I sense them – a group of now more than seven of them – following me closely so begin to walk slightly faster like I need to get to appointment as I pretend to check my watch on my wrist for the time.

Turning a corner, I see the Leader out of the corner of my peripheral vision and go to the crossing, only to make it look like I’m changing my mind then head down the street passing a Chip Shop with large queue of school children waiting outside to get inside then quickly turn into an alleyway heading further down it to soon step into an doorway.

I watch the group appearing just at the entrance of the alleyway, some looking down the street and others the other direction then the Leader says something, causing them to split up leaving two burly ones with the Leader.

They step into the alleyway, just as the door behind my back is inconveniently opened and a rude voice tells me “ _Fucking move, Mate. No Cold callers allowed here_.” Pushing me out into the light as the Leader soon spots me causing me to slip off my coat then chuck it at the Chip Fryer, quickly.

I turn, starting to run heading around the corner of the alleyway out into back-road and looking around feeling my heart starting to pound against my ribcage head down another alleyway almost stumbling in the process over fallen over metal bins; a Nightclub door where two women - with fishnet stockings, wearing short skirts and smoking peer out to have a look - then something slams into me, causing me to fall down onto the pavement in another empty street.

I roll slightly, followed by hands grabbing hold and hauling me soon upwards to slam up against the brick wall with such force it sends pain shooting through my spine at the impact then the Leader appears, coming up to me and punches me hard in the stomach with clenched fist, I hunch over the arm feeling some blood plip from my mouth onto the pavement.

A hand grabs the back of my head by my hair, wrenching it backwards so I’m forced to look at them and flings me among the rest of the group – who start to rain punches; blows and kicks to every part they can reach, while I try to fight back with everything I got left in me.

* * *

Sometimes there are two responses when you either sense your being followed or stalked for that matter – Flight or Fight – as now, weakly collapse onto the pavement stained with crimson petals of my blood, breathing coming out labored and pain radiating from every inch of my body they had abused – thankfully only physically and not sexually, even though that would have broken me more.

“Now, Hannibal Lecter. You listen to what I have to say next. Do you understand?” The Leader asks me, pulling my head up by my hair and trembling heavily, swallow down saliva that has built up in my throat answer them.

“Yes.”

“Good. Now here is the message. Forget you ever knew…your **_Beloved_** and leave him well behind – no contact; no messaging or phone calls or anything else. Erase him from your Mind or if you don’t then…well, will pay visit to get rid of let’s see….Margo Verger or Mr. Peter Bernardone or even your very own flesh and blood – your own Son.”

I stare at him shock, followed by lunging at them and pinning them down with both hands on their neck hear the muffled thumps of the rest of the Group making me look around to see all of them lying dead to the world with bullet holes – between their eyes – then the tables turn, due to me being distracted by this and I’m slammed down with the large, hands going straight around my throat choking me immediately.

I gasp soundlessly, mouth opening and closing no sound coming out as my heart starts to furiously pound against my ribcage trying to spread oxygen around my body and vision fading in and out of focus, see coming up behind a fuzzy form of only one person.

A weak smile forms on my face at the seeing the sight of….Nigel Rukos Gryvick – my Brother.

* * *


	29. Just News

Just some sorting of chapters, so now need to panic. I missed out a chapter, so just had to insert it in plus sort out some of the chapters. 


	30. Chapter 30

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Title: 
> 
> A Visit from "The One who Wears Guilt Within his Heart, but Does Not Show it”, who Brings With One’s Beloved’s Father, While Both Want Answers From One about the Night of the Dragon; Going to a Fresh Crime Scene Done by La Morte’s Killer, Where One Loses Oneself in the Reconstruction and Ends up at One’s Beloved’s Old Home Where they Meet Them

** Location - Safe-house near the Rolling Atlantic Ocean – 8:12am **

** Hannibal’s P.O.V: **

I’m busy in the kitchen, making “ ** _Minestrone soup”_** , while Nigel sits on one of the kitchen stools sipping a light beer I have poured for him and watches me cook breakfast as it was cold morning outside.

Little Morgan – my son and his Nephew – is still fast asleep and remember he would be finishing school early at 12:00 today so decide I will take him to see the Art Gallery Show at the Baltimore Gallery along with Peter, just to get out of the confines of the House for small while.

The front doorbell ringing, makes me lift my head up and turn to look at Nigel, who frowns as well because I wasn’t expecting visitors, turn the hob to allow for the soup to simmer then wiping my hands clean with the dishcloth head out to the front door.

Unlocking the front door, keeping the chain on at first and see standing there is Jack with another person who I don’t recognize – male, grizzly bearded and a piercing gaze at all then unlatching the chain, open the door more fully stepping to one side to allow them both in.

“Who’s that?” Jack asks me, indicating behind me, making me turn slightly to see Nigel, standing at the kitchen doorway and closing the front door behind them both head over to him.

“ _Nigel,_ _would you mind going to keep an eye on Little Morgan.”_ I whisper, making him ruffle a hand through his hair – mussing it in the process – and he heads back into the kitchen, switching the cooker of so the soup doesn’t get ruined then after sorting that, heads to Morgan’s room to keep an eye on him.

The other man and Jack, are still standing where I left them and composing myself, I indicate would they both like to sit down then heading over to the dining room table, notice it has started to rain outside covering the garden in a heavy shower.

“Hannibal, this…umm…” Jack begins to say, but the older man interrupts rudely before he can complete his sentence. “Bill Graham. I come to discover what…has happened with my son, William Graham, Mr. Lecter.””

My heart skips a double beat, followed by having to take hold of the back of the chair for support and pulling it out sit down turning my face towards them both as Jack, flinches at the fading bruises and hints I’ve been roughed up a lot by someone or a group of people.

With also the matter that I had lost Will’s ring and find myself even know rubbing the faded white band where it used to be on my ring finger then Bill Graham – my Father-in-Law even though he didn’t know it or maybe he did by the way his gaze keeps flicking to my ring finger.

“I want to know…what happened to my son – Will.” Bill Graham says, making me wonder should I lie to him or tell him the truth.

“It’s not that easy that to explain.” I begin to say, remembering the separation that had happened after the fall; recovering from the injuries I had attained from hitting the dangerous rocks and finding he was alive.

“Try, Hannibal. You must tell us what…actually happened that Night. The night Francis Dolerhyde ended up dead.” Jack says, making me get out of the chair and going up to the window wrap my arms around myself to hold them with both my hands.

“We….arrived here, talked about who I brought here previously – Miriam Lass and Abigail Hobbs – and later when night had fallen, we…..” I begin to say, while the image of Will, making love to me for the first time during that same night appears in the glass and fades away then gulping down saliva building up in my throat continue. “….had consensual sex before the **_Dragon_** arrived and then later, I was shot by Francis followed by him attacking Will.”

“You both butchered him, Hannibal. You…all this time, have kepted in this dark about what happened and you also lied in Court.” Jack says, anger rising within his voice and hear a scraping of chair being pushed back followed by Bill Graham coming to stand next to me, looking straight at me.

“What happened after you killed this man?” He asks me, causing me to shudder heavily and turning to look at him, feeling the tears which have formed starting to run down both my cheeks.

“We were both so badly wounded, there was nothing else we could do and Will, made the decision to pull us over the edge. I became separated from him, in the pounding waves and was in the process dashed up against the rocks nearly shattering my spine and blacked out.” I reply to him.

“I failed him as Father, when he was young. When his Mother – Anne – left me for some other man – a rich, pompous git – I went to drinking excessively, ruining my whole life with alcohol. And yet, my darling son was always there with me every step of the way.” He says, looking out the window as reminisces of a time when Will, was small child with curly hair and sea bluish-green eyes.

“Always the new boy at school. Always the new child, sitting at the back of classroom not knowing who his Mother was and where she had gone” I manage to get out, making him look at me and nod silently in reply followed by reaching into his coat pocket for something.

He holds it out, the gold band gleaming faintly in the sunlight and I recognize Will’s ring then moving one hand, take it off him and slip it slowly back into my ring finger feeling it’s comforting weight soothe me.

“Thank you, Bill. I thought I’d I had lost it.” I say, making the elder man place a hand up and head outside to the car parked close by to the house then come back in again, carrying Will’s former threadbare coat in his hands – neatly folded; pressed and laundered by the look of it.

“Here you are. You chucked it at my Boss, when you running from those thugs who were chasing you. He had no idea what to do with it, so I said I take it to the drycleaners and try to find you to give it back to you.”

He says, while handing it out to me, placing it in my hands and putting it down on the table find myself going up to him giving him a hug for all he has done. He stiffens at the action slightly, only to pat my back lightly with his hand sighing softly and it is him who pulls back to compose himself.

“If he were still alive, I would tell him that….I regret what has happened between us in his childhood and would want to start again. Thank you, Hannibal Lecter for giving me the answers I’m looking for. And if you want to make any further contact here is my Home phone number.” He says, handing me a slip of paper with the number scrawled on it.

I take it from him, hearing Jack’s phone ringing and looking over to him, watch silently as he answers it then begins to listen, his face changing expression every-time followed by a grim look as he places it back in his pocket turning to say to it me.

“Hannibal, we’ve…got another one.”

There no need for any further words, we both knew who he meant.

We both knew they weren’t going to stop until I had given up my **_Beloved._**

****

** Location – Grafton, West Virginia – The Beach – 10:45am **

The Crime Scene, has already been cordoned off with police tape – that whips about in harsh sea breeze – as I step out of my car, closing the door with one hand and pulling the collar of the threadbare coat more around me to keep out the biting chill then begin to walk with Jack, towards seeing as it comes into a view.

A large tree split apart has been placed where Will, had told me about during the time - when Encephalitis had been raging its way within his brain due to amount of times Jack, was making him look at the Crime Scenes of all the different killers - a Totem Pole made of human bodies had been placed by murderer.

This time, **_La Morte’s Killer_** has made their own Tableaux. Bodies of victims they have picked are wrapped around the tree – reminding me of the great serpent Jormungand wrapped around the roots of the tree Yggdrasil in some way – and at the top of it, a body of man looking like he is trying to escape the clutches of the hands that seem to be pulling him down into the gap.

Tearing at his skin, digging into it like claws trying to rip it off to expose what lies underneath – what lies underneath the veins and muscles. It’s like they were telling me, they knew how to expose me so much they could see right into my very soul.

“Do you need some time alone, again?” Jack asks me, noticing his gaze flicking down to my trembling hand against the side of my thigh and nod silently, while he indicates for the Forensics people to step back and leave me well alone as he stands to one side in the same spot he stood when Will had been doing reconstruction for the Totem Killer.

I slip my eyes close, the golden pendulum swinging once, twice and finally a third time drawing into the reconstruction of this Crime Scene.

_Screaming, bloodcurdling and high-pitched comes from all the victims followed by eerie silence that is what happened._

_They were so weak, you see, Dr. Lecter._

_Can’t you see what you made me do now?_

_I made this for you, gifted it to you._

_WHY DO YOU STILL CARE FOR HIM!!!!_

_WHY NOT ME!!!!_

* * *

** Location – Wolf-trap, Virginia – Afternoon  **

I come so harshly out of the Reconstruction, I suddenly noticed I’m no longer in West Grafton, Virginia instead I’m close to my **_Beloved’_** s House which I can see in the far distance then stepping back lean against the tree trunk of the large tree behind me, willing my heart to stop thudding against my ribcage.

I just dissociated by losing time, while I still try to figure out how I gotten here – because my car is not around - and remember had left my watch at home on the top of the piano.

Tilting my head backwards stare up at the rolling clouds in the blue sky through the canopy of bare branches.

“Hannibal, what are you doing way out here?!!” A voice – Will’s voice – asks me, surprised to me and lowering my head back down see standing in front of me is Will, wearing a dark green coat, a knitted blue scarf wrapped around his neck and hat to go with it.

He steps close to me, pulling me into his warm embrace and burying my face into the crook of his neck can feel myself trembling at the fact I’m losing control of myself then pulling back slightly in his arms, kiss him on the lips breathlessly.

Both of change position each-time to deepen the kiss, which relieves the tension I’m feeling as I melt in the grip of his arms. Our lips move softly and gently against each-other’s – tasting and caressing – then he pulls away, slipping one hand down to take hold of my hand.

_“Come with me.”_

_“Where would I go?”_

_“Hehhh, you remembered me saying it.”_

_“Of course I do, **Myilamis**.”_

* * *


	31. Chapter 31

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Title: 
> 
> Spending Time with One’s Beloved for a Tender, Long Moment at Night-time; Another Interview with “Iron Maiden” this Time Bringing One’s Brother With Them in the Morning and Meeting in the Process at the Sametime Before it Happens Bluebeard’s Wife or The Viper

** Location – Wolf-trap, Virginia – Old Barn near Will’s Old House - Night **

** Hannibal’s P.O.V: **

“ _Look at me, Hannibal.”_

Will, says softly bringing his hand up to cup my cheek with the palm of his hand and fluttering my eyes open, see he is looking down at me, concern as both of lay naked on the soft hay pile up in the hayloft of the large barn close to his house.

He pushes his hips forwards into mine, causing me to gasp breathlessly – mouth agape. Starting to undulate his hips back and forth – up and down, slipping himself in and out of me.

My body feels warm, comforted by his embrace and he continues to fill me as I moan softly in the stillness of the space around us both then he rises up slightly, pulling himself fully out of me and pushing back in again.

Both his hands come up to cup my cheeks at the same time I can feel tears forming in my eyes – brimming nearly over the edges – then spilling down, making him kiss me breathlessly.

I kiss him back, bringing my hands up to wrap around his neck to cradle the back of his head – sifting through his soft, curls – and wrapping my legs around his waist feel him speed up his thrusts within me. The kiss becomes sloppier, followed by him starting to grunt heavily above me and he releases my swollen lips to attack my neck – trailing up and down, licking upwards with his tongue – as both of us stare into each-other’s eyes

Maroon into sea bluish-green.

I moan, whimper and mewl heavily underneath him with sweat running down my body in droplets gleaming in the moonlight streaming down through gaps on the roof of the old barn then tilting my head backwards to expose my throat more to him, followed by him flipping us both so I’m above him.

Straddling him in such a way, I slip my hands from his neck to rest on his chest and lifting myself up slight slowly and gently begin to ride him – shifting my muscles and moving my hips in such a way it sends pleasure running up my spine. His hands reach out to hold my hips and he rises his legs up behind me slightly spreading them apart for leverage.

“ _Haaa….Will, **Myilamis…..** sweet, **Myilamis** ….I can feel your heat.”_

_“I know….I can feel yours as well. Keep doing what you’re doing. I want to see you come undone for me.”_

As soon as Will says those words, I begin to ride him harder and faster soon moaning heavily in ecstasy and pleasure lifting myself up and down to slip in and out of my quivering insides at the sametime he takes hold my hips to shove his hips upwards with every downward thrust.

Causing me to give a pleasured, high keening wail of pleasure in the stillness of the Old Barn each time he does so.

_“Will, **mano miele** …..I’m so close, so close!!!” _

_“Uhhh….I know…so I’m I. Hannibal….Cum for me, my **Wendigo.”**_

It hits.

More intense than any other orgasm I ever experienced, causing me to arch my back heavily and finding myself giving a keening wail of his name “ _WILLLL!!!!”_ at the sametime extreme whiteness blocks out every external noise.

Except for the internal – my pounding Heart.

* * *

** Location – Baltimore, Maryland – One’s Old Office – Morning  **

“ _So, you’re telling me that the person who runs the Verger Meatpacking. They married a former friend of yours.”_

_Nigel says, blowing smoke from his cigarette out of the open passenger window as I drive through the morning traffic to what were my former Offices._

_“You could say that. Though it wasn’t friend. Margo Verger, was a patient of mine until….certain events arose.”_

I come out of the memory of that conservation I and Nigel had and sitting down in one of the waiting room seats, listen to the ticking of the clock on the wall as the time comes up to when Alana, would be taking me for the Interview – this being a second session – then Nigel, speaks breaking the awkward silence around us both.

“What’s bothering you?” He asks me, making me turn my face to look into his eyes and sighing heavily go to open my mouth when the Office turns making us both simultaneously turn our heads.

“Oh, Hannibal. I…Well, this is unexpected.” Bedelia says, flicking her gaze over to Nigel then back to me and steps out into the waiting area closing the door behind her.

“Bedelia, it’s good to see you again. For what happened….in the past, can you forget it?” I say, asking her that question and she sighs heavily stepping forwards towards me, while Nigel goes to get up but I place my hand in warning it was alright and she was harmless for now.

“I doubt we can both truly forget it, Hannibal. Though I see you moved on and married have you? This your husb….No, a cousin or brother perhaps.” She says, correcting herself when Nigel, gives a slight glare at her and yet, she is not fazed by this at all.

“Brother. That is all you need to know.” Nigel growls out, making her look at him and at me.

“A very rude mouth your Brother has, Hannibal. I’m surprised you allow him to get away with what he says.” She says, walking away and heading leaving me alone as my Brother fumes in the seat making me turn to look at him.

“Nigel…..” I begin to say, but close my mouth as Alana after sorting herself for the next session opens the office door and interrupts indicating for us both to come inside.

(TIME SKIP)

A glass of rich wine is poured into glasses, while Nigel accepts calmly a glass of beer from Alana, who after handing me the filled glass sits down with her own as he heads over to stand close to the window looking out with one hand in his trouser pocket.

I bring the wine to my nose, inhaling deeply what is **_Famille Perrin “Les Cardinaux” (2016)_** and place it to one side on the side table next to my armchair not really wanting to drink at the moment then she gets her notebook, opening it up to the page she was writing in when asking me about Mischa.

“Now, we were talking last time about your sister last time. Explain to me what happened next, Hannibal.” She says, making wish not to relive the **_Memories_** of what happened next and taking a deep breath, start to continue story of my childhood as Nigel, leans against the windowsill to listen to what his Brother has to say about a sister he never knew about at all.

“After placing her hands on my cheeks and laughing in my face, I allowed her to reach past to collect the eggplant she wanted to stare at in the sun. Colour was her passion and joy.” I say, taking a break to take a drink of the wine, which for now soothes my parched throat and continue. “And so afterwards, I took out my little penknife when she had been taken inside and cut the stem of an eggplant for her, carrying it inside up to her Nursery where I put where she could see it.”

“Did you love your sister, Hannibal? Deeply?” She asks me, causing me to flinch at this and not want to answer her, while Nigel is trying deeply to compose himself as well hearing all of this being said by me.

“Alana, could we change the subject. These are painful **_Memories_** you’re asking me to recall here.” I reply, voice breaking because of all the emotions that came with them rising upwards and she lifts her head up from the notepad to look straight at me.

“Then would you prefer to tell me about this?” she asks - saying it to both of us - getting up out the seat and going around the large desk, she soon opens one of the drawers then reaches in, pulling out a laptop and sorting it, turns it towards us both.

It is far distant picture taken with long lenses, focusing on both me and Will, when I had found myself in Wolf-trap. It been after the Reconstruction of the **_La Morte’s Killer_** new Crime Scene in Grafton, West Virginia. Both of us kissing heavily after being reunited again followed by three other pictures – one’s taken in the barn of me and Will, making love together.

I try to speak, but my throat feels like it is tightened up and getting out of the chair, walk forwards taking hold of the lid to slam it down but still when she clicks next to reveal Nigel, with Peter and Francis Dolerhyde talking and laughing outside in the garden followed by another picture – one of intimate gentleness between the three of them and tender affection for each-other.

I hear Nigel come over, slamming the lid down and taking quickly the memory stick out before Alana can reach for it. He drops it onto the floor, stamps on it hard snapping the plastic casing hard and grinds his heel on it to make sure it can no longer be used by anyone.

_“What was that for anyway? Blackmail material? Or to see how we both react to those pictures taken without permission and violating both our privacy.”_

_“It was just to see what you would do. That’s all. Now, I believe that is this session over for now.”_

* * *


	32. Going to the “Into Eternity’s Gate” Art Gallery Show with One’s Little One, the Gentle One and the Great Red Dragon, Meeting the Escaped Solitary Hawk There and Seeing One’s Little One to Help them Heal

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for short chapter. Also, had to add in another chapter because I forget to put it in. On the original word document, I'm typing this up one this chapter is actually Chapter 28. But here it is different due to...well, just read and enjoy and let's not think about that at the moment.

** Location – Baltimore, Maryland – Baltimore Gallery **

** Hannibal’s P.O.V: **

“ ** _Papa_** , where we going?” Morgan asks me, clasping his hand in mine as Peter, walks with Francis beside us through Baltimore Park to the Art Gallery in the distance.

Keeping himself close to the larger man – who had told me, he deeply loved both my Brother and Peter and would protect them no matter what the threat from **_La Morte’s Killer._**

“It’s a surprise.” I reply, making him lower his head and start to think what could it be that I want to take him to see, gripping my hand more tightly when we finally reach the other side of the park.

The sign for “ ** _Into Eternity’s Gate_** ” Art Gallery, is gently flapping in the breeze showing the picture of the three artists being shown - Leonardo Da Vinci; Vincent Van Gogh and Michelangelo – in the show – which was thankfully free to the public – on a flagpole, just outside the gallery.

People, tourists and families going about the everyday lives mill about the large space near the large circular fountain – where in the center is a statue of Sigurd defeating the dragon or more like serpent, due to the artist’s representation of it.

The four of us, soon head up the steps to the Baltimore Art Gallery, where two large golden gleaming doors lead into the very old Historical building and allow Morgan to pull me within the warm interior filling my ears with noise of tourists in groups being lead around by Tour guides; families with their own children and couples walking about through the many rooms of the Gallery.

An attendant waiting at the door, hands program to myself and Francis, while Morgan takes it off me to have a look at it. I slip my coat off, placing it over in over my arm with Morgan, still holding my left hand begin to walk with him around the Gallery.

* * *

“ ** _Papa,_** who is that man?” Morgan asking me, making me turn to look away from the sketching of the **_Punishment of Tityus_** done by Michelangelo in **_c.1533_** to see standing close to the statue of * ** _Pieta Rondanini_** – “* _Mother and Son_ ” – is Matthew Brown.

There is no-one else in the West wing of the Gallery. Except for myself, Morgan and Matthew. He looks around for any sign of security guards and seeing none at the moment, quickly comes over to me and Morgan taking hold of my arm to lead me down a corridor as Morgan, grips my hand with both hands in a tight grip. He is frightened and uncertain about the newcomer, who I know from my past and pulls me back slightly to stop me.

“ ** _Papa,_** I’m….scared. I…want to go back.” Morgan says, making me pick him up to hold him in my arms and cradle him close, feeling him bury his little face into the crook of my neck as Matthew comes up to us.

“Please…will just come this way? Please, Hannibal…it’s important. It has something to do with **_La Morte’s Killer_**.” Matthew hisses low under his breath, not wanting to be heard for some reason like he was afraid the walls had ears or something else had made the Solitary Hawk this skittish in any environment.

I keep on following him down the long corridor, passing empty storage rooms until he comes to one and heads inside, where still holding Morgan I step inside seeing the shafts of sunlight shining through the large half-mooned shaped windows to reveal it is Art Classroom – no longer in function anymore, due to the amount of dust on the long desks and chalkboard with faint scribbles written in Latin faded over time they become illegible.

He closes the door, not putting the bolt across it thankfully and going past me, stands near the window to look out the rooftop of the Art Gallery at the same-time a flight of pigeons fly past – wings flapping – as their shadows show on the faded wallpaper of the Art Classroom. I look at Matthew, who busy standing there watching them fly over the rooftop sweeping and arcing in their movement until they disappear from sight.

“I need your help.”

“With what, Matthew?” I ask, making him turn to half-face me keeping the other side of his face in the sunlight and the other in shadow, digging his nails into the wrist which has the **_B.S.H.C.I_** plastic tag on it and also see on his ankle a purple round bruise indicating a tracking device had been placed around it at some point.

How he gotten it off? How had he gotten out of the place, without being noticed he was missing from his cell?

“I need your help recovering **_Memories._** I had….some kind of flashback or at least it felt like one. I don’t know what I was seeing!!?” Matthew begins to say, starting to whimper heavily and fall to the floor on his knees shouting out in the silence. “I DON’T FEEL MYSELF ANYMORE!!!!? WHAT’S HAPPENING TO ME!!!!?”

Painful, heart-wrenching sobbing begins to come from him as he wraps his arms around himself trying to comfort himself and it is not me, he does the comfort but Morgan who manage to slip out of my arms then comes over to him, standing in front of him as Matthew lifts his head to see who is in front of him.

My little one, reaches forwards cupping both his cheeks in his tiny hands and Matthew, stares widened eyes as he realises who the little boy in front of him was to me then allows him the tears on his cheeks to be wiped, until there are none left.

“ _Don’t cry, Mathew. There is no need to cry anymore.”_

My little one says, comforting the broken **_Solitary Hawk_** in front of him. Fixing its broken wing, so it can fly again over the land, free and without constraint.

* * *


	33. A Visit from La Morte’s Killer at Night, after one Experiences a Dream of Hidden Memory they didn’t remember until Now, While One’s Beloved Sleeps Next to One .....

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> .......and Allowing One’s Beloved to Go After them After La Morte’s Killer Leaves One Behind Badly Wounded from their Actions (rest of chapter title) 
> 
> Going add also new P.O.V’s. So Nigel, Francis and Will and the other’s when I figured out how to write them. Plus I’m giving everyone tissues out because this chapter is so…going to pull at your heartstrings even though it is short. I’m sorry. (Cringes and begins to prepare the mound of tissues boxes for disputing among readers and guests)

** Location – Safe-house near the Rolling Atlantic Ocean **

** Hannibal’s P.O.V: **

A **_Memory._**

It stirs up from the depths of my crumbling **_Memory Palace_** , rising to cover me – over my bare skin and finally my face – dragging me down into it.

_Heat, flashing lights and Will holding me from behind – back to chest – with the pounding, seductive Nightclub music filling the space around us as both of us dance slowly as Gary Numen “Bed of Thorns” finishes playing to move onto “Stuck in My Head” feat by Terry Killerz – the Mode-step version. Both of us now twisting; writhing and grinding against each-other in time with the music._

_While the lights are flashing, moving about like searchlights and the lyrics are filling my ears to stick inside my head._

_We’re both in Gay Nightclub, unexpectedly due to the insistence of Brain Zeller and Jimmy Price to enjoy a night out with the lads where their favourite singer was playing there._

_Both of us, are slightly inhibited and yet, with my crimson current shirt unbutton slightly, plus my hair mussed from kissing Will heavily during our dancing continue to move with him staring into his sea bluish-green eyes and his into mine._

_One of his hands which rests on my chest slips downwards to slip into the loose fitting blue jeans I wear as I hope no-one else is seeing him doing this._

_Even though, around us are many different gay couples in different states of undress almost due to the atmosphere – then bringing one hand up, cradle the back of his head to sift it through his hair at the same-time he moves us further back into the shadows to dance where we can’t be seen._

_His hand in the confine of the loose jeans, I wear starts to sift through the fine hairs leading down to the aching hard-on – which has formed due to his body up against mine and the alcohol in my system – teasing and pulling them slightly to elicit slightly pain._

**_“Hannibal…I want…..haa…to fuck you_ ** _.” Will whispers, his breath hot against my neck and slips the hand lower causing me to tense slightly against him when – after pulling the seam of my boxers to slip his hand within – he cups my aching hard-on in the palm of his hand._

_Gulping down saliva, building up in my throat and licking my lips to wet them find myself responding with breathless whisper “ **I can’t….Will. I….Don’t!!!...We shouldn…haa!!!”** only to bite my bottom lip to quell the breathless moan that wants to escape when he pulls me further away down an empty corridor._

_Around a corner, where the music is more muffled and were utterly alone in the long corridor. Followed by him turning me around to face him and slipping his hand out of my boxers then the loose fitting jeans to rest it on the belt_

_He been surprised when he seen me come out of my house, when he had come to pick me wearing the crimson shirt and the loose fitting jeans._

_His hands unbuckling it draws me out of those thoughts though._

_Metal clinking slightly and him pulling the zip downwards then he slips downwards onto his knees, bending his head down causing me to tilt my head backwards moving myself to lean against the wall with old music promoting posters on it then both hands downwards cup his cheek with one hand to stroke his cheekbone and the other sifting through his curly locks._

_His head bobs up and down, between my quivering thighs at the same-time soft, slurping sounds reach my ears of him pleasuring me intimately with his hot, moist mouth that I slowly start to rock my hips into it starting to moan softly and gasp breathlessly in the stillness of the corridor._

_A noise though nearly drags me out of the pleasant, alcohol fuelled haze though and turning my face to look see hidden in the shadows someone is watching us one hand braced on the wall then Will, does a certain move causing me become distracted from trying to figure out who they are._

_And by the time, I look again they have gone._

Fluttering my eyes open, I lay there under the soft duvet cover of the bed waiting them to adjust to the darkness around me – the black dust-mites floating in front of me – then frown, sensing I’m being watched by someone else.

Someone who is standing right at the foot of the bed, seeing me awake and Will, asleep next to me as I go to slip my hand underneath my pillow to reach for the scalpel underneath when a tip of hunting dagger presses lightly into the underside of my chin stilling me from reaching it.

_“Leave it.”_

A whisper, followed by the hunting dagger tip still digging into the underside of my chin forcing me to turn my face completely to look up at the darkened shadow above followed by moonlight soon illuminating a Kabuki mask – one that looks like the same one, I had tried one when staying with Lady Murasaki and my Uncle – then find myself rolling onto my back, looking up at them into their eyes.

Because it is so dark, I can’t tell what color they are. Only see the faint gleam of them, through the eye holes of the mask and soon the flick their gaze over to Will, calmly sleeping next to me with one hand resting on the pillow in front of him.

Soft, even gentle breathing of light snuffles. He will not wake, I know that because he had been very tired and drained of energy after doing offshore work on one of the far distant Oil Rigs in the middle of the rolling Atlantic.

My heart is starting to pound against my rib-cage, while they flick their gaze down to me, moving to straddle my waist covered by the duvet cover as they bend down allowing for the fake hair attached to the Kabuki mask to fall over the slim, delicate and petite shoulders.

“ _I warned….you what would happen if you were still with your **Beloved.”**_

A hiss coming from them, like snakes slithering over each-other to reach for the escaping prey followed by grabbing hold of me, pulling me upwards somehow twisting me to face Will then the curved Hunting dagger moves to throat – right in the same place, where I remember Hobbs had scarred his daughter – then their other hand gripping me tightly around the chest, rips it right across in the way Hobbs severed his Daughter’s throat to allow for gush of crimson to go spurting outwards into the air.

Every next seem to happens to in slow motion, me falling backwards on top of the duvet cover with a muffled thump gasping labourly – like a fish out water – at the same-time a shot rings out, shattering the Kabuki mask slightly as the night-time visitor jumps off the bed to smash through the windows with a jump then scrabbling upwards, followed by running away into the night.

Will, soon leans over me as I distantly hear voices followed by the bedroom door opening to reveal Nigel, Francis and Dr. Ocrates who rushes over to me then moving Will’s hands out the way, tilts my neck in certain way to make sure I live and survive.

“Go. Get…after them. Take Nigel with you.” He growls at Will, who has slipped on some clothes and checked the gun in his hands, followed by bending down to rest my forehead against mine briefly stroking my cheek lightly.

“Wait for me, Hannibal. Wait…for me, my **_Wendigo.”_**

I shudder heavily, hearing Francis in the hallway talking on the phone to get an ambulance and telling the person on the other side it must come as soon as possible.

He slips away, going with Nigel through the broken window and leaving me alone with Dr. Ocrates who keeps my neck tilted in the same way I held Abigail’s.

Feeling the blood from the wound seeps downwards to stain the tank-top I’m wearing and the simple plain pyjama trousers then finally sirens, followed by rushing footsteps of the Paramedics coming into the bedroom over to me.

Kit is placed on the bed, followed by talking between Dr. Ocrates and the Head Paramedic at the same-time little Morgan, who has awoken rushes over then clambers onto the bed to take hold of my hand gripping it tight with his own.

“ ** _Papa!!!?_** Why….is there….Why you bleeding?” He asks me, making me wish I can respond to comfort him – being terrified to see in this state - only to suddenly shudder heavily arching my back slightly at the intense spasm and hear the words from the Paramedic “ _He’s going into shock!!!? Hurry, bring the stretcher_.”

Then try to keep my eyes open, feeling my vision rapidly fading fast at the same-time my breathing is becoming laboured until I finally succumb to the blackness pulling in around the edges of my vision as my little one shouts for me to stay awake as my eyes finally slip close.

 ** _“PAPA!!!?_** NO, DON’T GO TO SLEEP!!!? **_PAPA!!!?”_**

My head lolling to one side in the grip of Dr. Ocrates’ hands. Heartbeat slowing, until finally stopping within the confines of my rib-cage.

* * *


	34. Finding out When One Gets Back That One’s Brother has Passed Away, followed by Being Comforted by the.......

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ..........by the Great Red Dragon; Visiting the Iron Maiden and the Viper, After the Loss, at Lunchtime and Resuming the Investigation that One’s Brother was doing on La Morte’s Killer, where One’s Meets the Hidden Daughter of One’s Brother that The Shrouded Lady of Fulina Hadn’t Told them About (rest of chapter title) 
> 
> This chapter will be told by Nigel’s P.O.V starting after the events that happened.

** Location – Safe-house near the Rolling Atlantic Ocean **

** Nigel’s P.O.V: **

I see it, before I even feel what has happened followed by wailing coming from Morgan when I reach the Safe-house then begin to run heavily, almost stumbling in the process to see Hannibal, lying on the bed deathly pale and un-moving then Francis, who has come over to the shattered window takes hold of me to lead me away from the sight.

Peter is thankfully comforting Morgan, taking him out the room and sifting a hand through his hair then finally reaching the bench, the tears forming begin to fall heavily as I whirl around to face him and he pulls me into his arms tilting my chin up to kiss me gently to soothe me.

I can’t stop crying, even while were kissing and every-time he changes position whimper heavily followed by pulling away to bury my face into the crook of his neck as he kneels down to lay me down on the soft grassy verge near the bench and cliff. His large hand comes up to cradle the back of my head sifting through my hair, hearing his deep smoky almost husky quality to it voice soothing words in my ear again and again until I’m no longer trembling in his arms.

The tension seeps out of me, followed by him lifting himself up slightly to stroke the tear trails down my cheeks and kisses me again softly followed by helping me stand up.

“Haa….I felt it….I felt….his life draining away, Francis. I felt…my brother’s life slipping away.” I say, voice breaking heavily it comes hoarse almost and turn away to wrap my arms around myself looking at the still calm ocean with the sun just being to peak over the liquid silver waves.

His larges arms wrap around me from behind, pulling my chest against his muscular chest and remember the night….the night, when we had made love together.

The way he moved within me, causing me to cry out softly in the silence of the back of his Land Rover his name and hold him close to me, writhing underneath to soon succumb to earth-shattering climax as the **_Memory_** comes to the forefront of my mind.

_“FRANCIS!!!”_

_His warm body over mine, continuing to move within me through the orgasmic waves coursing through my body and keeping my thighs tightly around his waist soon feel him tense over me, filling me with a rush of warmth._

I come outof it, when Francis cups my cheek to stroke my cheekbone lightly with his thumb and his other hand clasping into the fingers of one of my hands.

It comforts me for now.

* * *

** Location – Baltimore, Maryland – One’s Brother’s Old Office – Lunchtime **

“I’m….so…sorry, Nigel.”

Alana Bloom says to me, stepping to one side to allow me to step within the old office where I see Bedelia has she was called is also in the room sitting calmly on the blue sofa looking dazed and pale as the paper in her hand slips out of her grip to fall with muffled thump onto the carpet.

_Is she glad my Brother was dead or was it something else that had made become as white as sheet?_

“Is it….true?” Bedelia asks me, voice so wispy and faint at first I don’t hear it and going up to her, bend down to pick up the newspaper to see the front article of it.

It shows a picture of what had happened last night, Hannibal’s unmoving, deathly pale body being gently placed into a black body bag, which in another picture shows before it was fully zipped up Will, looking down at his face kissing my Brother’s forehead lightly with his lips.

I remember standing there watching all of it. Listening to the soft sobs, coming from him as he sat down on the edge of the bed after they had left with Hannibal’s body, with little Morgan coming over to place his little hands over his as he lifted my nephew into his lap allowing himself to be hugged tightly as he had wrapped his arms around the little one.

“Yes. Hannibal, passed…away last night, due to… ** _La Morte’s Killer_** or so says Freddie Lounds of Tattlecrime coming to visit the house. I…will be continuing his investigations into this killer.” I reply, causing her to lift her face to look at me with widen eyes followed by standing up to go over to the drink decanter.

A popping noise of a cork, followed by her pouring the alcohol into a tumbler and look over to watch her, literally chug it down in one gulp making me raise an eyebrow at this as she loosely reminds of Gabi Ibanuscu then she pours another glass for herself and one for someone else.

She comes over to me, handing me it and looking at me when I don’t bring a hand up to accept it then seeing I’m not wanting to drink at the moment or would prefer to get my own drink.

I move to sit down next to her, surprising her and taking one of the tumblers from her then bring it up to my lips, take a sip to soon wince at the taste of the strong brandy. I lower it back down to hold close to my thigh, while the three of just sit in the silence as I keep my gaze flicking to the seat where my Brother had sat.

But no longer among us now.

* * *

** Location – F.B.I Behavioral and Science Unit – after Lunch **

Jack, is sitting at his office at his desk looking at a loss at what has transpired from events of last night when he been called to the Safehouse to the fresh Crime Scene – this time, watching as Will said goodbye to my Brother and the black body being wheeled out past him – then standing in the doorway, hear an indignant squeak of surprise and shock followed by someone – female – falling backwards.

I turn to look, seeing a women with glasses and hair tied back in tight bun, while textbooks are laying around her followed by starting to pick them up as I decide to help because it seems the other students walking through the corridor are ignoring her.

“Than…Thank you.” She says, hesitantly lifting her face to look up at me as I find myself looking at an almost female version of my Brother and she moves on heading to class leaving me standing there.

I open my mouth, going to call her back and yet, decide better of it when Jack comes to stand at the open doorway to see who had arrived then crosses his arms over his chest to look at me.

“She bumped into me, Jack. I didn’t come here to ogle the women here.” I say, convincing him I wasn’t here to flirt with the female students of the F.B.I and continue. “I’ve….come to continue what my Brother was doing.”

“Nigel….I don’t know if that….is a good idea.” Jack sighs, like he doesn’t want me investigating the same person who may have murdered my Brother **_– La Morte’s Killer._**

Though why?

Was he concerned, I would be hurt?

Was he concerned he would add more guilt to his heart if I was killed or hurt by this killer?

“ _Jack, let me do this. It’s what Hannibal would have wanted.”_

_“Alright. Let’s get started than.”_

**LE FIN**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This ain’t the end. You have now all come through the First Level Hannibal’s Dante style Inferno and our ready for the Second Level.
> 
> As Hannibal said “Memeralis. Spoil the surprise” because I’m not giving away any spoils for the sequel coming soon. 
> 
> See title below, which is also the Second Level. 
> 
> “The Silence of an Empty Space in the Many Rooms where you’re No Longer There, Dear Brother”

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * ["When the Lamb Goes Silent, but Within One's Own Mind Can Still Hear the Screams of Them" [Podfic]](https://archiveofourown.org/works/17844764) by [GhostGurlGamer](https://archiveofourown.org/users/GhostGurlGamer/pseuds/GhostGurlGamer)




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